Flight of the King
by SapphireDragon4437
Summary: Hiccup, the prince of Berk, sensed that something was amiss - not all was as it seemed within the walls of the castle. Nobody expected, him least of all, that his father would be murdered and he would have to flee his home with his life in the hands of a stranger. Prince!Hiccup AU. Slow burn Hiccstrid. [Discontinued] [Sorry]
1. Chapter One - Betrayed

**Chapter One: Betrayed**

Hiccup could sense the tension in the castle that grew with every passing hour. It lingered everywhere like a bad stench. His father was distant, his uncle angry and his cousin spent a lot of time holed up in his room. The servants, noblemen and subjects that flocked around the castle were hurried and quiet. Things were about to go wrong – soon.

It was during dinner that things began to kick off. Hiccup, being the eighteen-year-old future king of Berk, had been sent to bed early by his father, King Stoick. Although he was tired by the day's events (debating over tax, helping to create defences against dragon raids, listening to his future subjects whine and other kingly stuff) he was unable to banish the curiosity that compelled him to listen through the door of the dinner hall. He was only able to catch snippets of conversation through the thick oak wood. What he heard made the tense ball in his stomach tighten. Yet again, his uncle Spitelout had created a petty argument with the king (as usual, about bloodlines) that would soon boil over into something far more serious. And deadly, knowing Spitelout.

Deciding to head to bed before somebody threw open the door and broke his nose, Hiccup trotted up the marble steps to his bedroom. He had claimed the tallest tower in the castle when he was just six, inspired by the storybooks that he had read, and had regretted it ever since. Climbing up the three thousand steps every day took up time and a lot of Hiccup's energy. Although he was tall, he was also skinny and far weaker than a Viking prince should be. His legs, putting it nicely, were thin and twig-like. Stairs-climbing was not on his list of skills.

"One day I'm going to invent a system that lifts people to wherever they want to go so that they don't have to walk up _ten flights of Thor-damn stairs!"_ Hiccup muttered as he started on the seventh flight of seemingly endless staircases.

He amused himself by planning how this system would work as he dragged himself up the last few flights of stairs. When he finally stumbled past his bedroom door and flopped onto his bed, he made a mental note to work on his leg muscles. It was a plan the he had made countless times before but Hiccup pretended that he might actually do it this time.

Not even bothering to undress, Hiccup crawled underneath his goose-down bedsheets and immediately began to snore. His final, sleepy thought was that he probably shouldn't have let Snotlout make him drink so much wine.

It seemed like no time had passed at all when Hiccup was being violently shook out of his sleepy state. Literally. His hand immediately went to his bedside table, where he kept his dagger in a hidden drawer, only to find the drawer open and empty.

"You should really work on your hiding spots, son." King Stoick whispered, holding the weapon out to the prince. Realising that there was no immediate danger, Hiccup gave a sleepy: "Sure, Dad." in response and tried to snuggle back beneath the covers. Gentler this time, Stoick shook Hiccup's shoulder until he reluctantly sat up.

"S'matter?" Hiccup mumbled, thinking longingly of going back to sleep.

"You have five minutes, Hiccup. Get up, get dressed and pack for travel."

"What? Why?" Hiccup asked, suddenly wide awake.

As the prince threw back his bedclothes, Stoick chuckled. "Well, at least you don't have to get dressed. Get as many clothes as you can – thick jackets, tunics, winter clothes. You're going to need them."

"It's the middle of summer, Dad." Hiccup grumbled. Nonetheless, he climbed out of bed and began to rifle through his drawers, looking for the clothing that would – of course – be right at the bottom.

Hiccup snuck a glance at his father as he rifled through his drawers. He recognised the face that the king had when speaking with his subjects – the straight, drawn one that effectively concealed emotion. But his eyes were unmistakeable – they were full of fear and anger.

"Where am I going, Dad? Why am I going there?"

"I have food for you, medical supplies and your sword. I also have money in this secret compartment in the food bag which will be more than enough for you to buy more. And-"

"Dad!" Hiccup hissed, pausing his frantic packing. "Answer me! What's going on?"

Stoick sighed. His expression reminded Hiccup of childhood scoldings and his lessons on how to be a king. The look implied that somebody, or something, had done something wrong. Before speaking, he handed Hiccup his sword in its scabbard, which Hiccup buckled to his belt while he waited for his father. He also took the dagger than his father had retrieved and placed it inside the lining of his left boot. (Now fully awake, he was rather disgusted with himself for sleeping fully clothed.)

"It's your uncle. One of my loyal subjects overheard him talking about how he plans to kill you and have Snotlout take your place as Crown Prince."

This revelation should've frightened Hiccup – instead, he felt oddly pleased. He was glad that he finally knew the source of the castle's tense atmosphere. The fear would come later.

"I bet he plans on taking the throne for himself, though, that filthy, murderous, Thor-dammed, traitorous-"

"Calm down Dad." Hiccup said soothingly, turning back to his chest of drawers and continuing his frantic packing.

"Yes, yes. Anyway, he seems to have half the castle on his side. He turned them on me right underneath my nose!" Stoick took a deep breath, planning on ranting again, but stopped himself when he saw his son's expression. "They're drunk but one Hiccup doesn't stand a chance against thirty men with axes and swords." He caught Hiccup's eye. "No offence, son."

"None taken, Dad." Hiccup muttered sarcastically.

"I'm sending you to the Ingremans until I know that it's safe for you to return home. Fishlegs was your childhood friend and his father is loyal to me and the crown. You'll be safe there. I've assigned a trained warrior to you to protect you on your journey. They aren't one of our soldiers but they are better, stronger and faster than any soldier I've met and they get the job done without fail. You'll be safe with them."

"What about you, Dad?" Hiccup asked, stuffing the clothes into an empty bag that his father handed to him and heaving it onto his shoulder. "Will you be safe here?"

Stoick chuckled. "I'm the king, Hiccup! If anybody kills me, it'll be you when you become tired of waiting for the throne." He clapped a massive hand around Hiccup's shoulder, nearly sending him to the floor. "Don't you worry about me."

Hiccup nodded slowly, not quite believing him but unable to say so. "When are they planning on killing me?" The nonchalance of his voice surprised even himself.

Stoick pondered this for a moment. "About an hour ago. They fell asleep over their mead but they'll be awake soon. Nothing stops a Viking from getting what he wants – not even being drunk. It took the subject ten minutes to climb the stairs, fifteen to wake me, five to tell me what was wrong, twenty minutes for somebody to wake the groom and have your horse saddled and twenty minutes to find you a map and other things that you'll need. I let you sleep in for a bit."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." Hiccup quipped. (His father didn't seem to realise that his uncle could've woken up and murdered him easily in that hour. Not to mention the fact that he could've contributed to his own escape.) He yanked the rope of the worn old bag further up his shoulder, setting his mouth into a determined line. "Are we okay to go?"

Stoick nodded and headed for the door. Hiccup took a moment to look around his room for what might be the last time. He smiled fondly at the chalk marks on the walls that his father had drawn to mark his height, his green bed set, his vast collection of books and the dozens of half-finished inventions that covered the chairs, windowsills and floor. They would doubtlessly be destroyed when his uncle discovered that they had fled. Hiccup felt a great sadness for what he suddenly understood to be a final farewell to his childhood.

After a few seconds, Hiccup followed his father out of the door and locked it behind him. That would hold off his killers for a while. He expected him to go down the main flight of steps but Stoick instead headed for a little side door that he unlocked using a key from the vast collection that he kept about his person. The door opened to reveal a large, seeming bottomless hole and a large wooden basket that hung in the middle of it.

"This is a system that allows the servants to efficiently transport people and items around the castle. I had them made a few weeks after I became king because it took ages for my nurse to bring me my hot water bottle when I was a lad." Stoick chuckled at the memory. "I named it the elevator, because it elevates - but I also like the name lift, because it lifts. We'll use it to get to the ground floor twice as fast as my brother can get up those stupid stairs."

Hiccup cursed silently – partly because he had been climbing up the stairs for twelve years instead of using the elevator but mostly because his father had invented the lifting system before he had even thought of it.

They climbed awkwardly into the basket. Stoick held Hiccup's two bags (the bag of his clothes and the bag containing the food and other items that Stoick had packed) for him. He fiddled with a few levers with his free hand while Hiccup sat gingerly on one of the boxes and tried not to imagine how easily he could meet his doom in the creaky basket.

"Okay, here we go!"

Hiccup shrieked like a small girl as they went plummeting down so fast that he was unable to draw breath. The stale air screamed in his ears and floor grew closer and closer – soon, Hiccup could make out the individual blocks.

Just before they were sent to Valhalla thanks to the unforgiving stone, one of the ropes on the basket reached the end of its length, stopping the basket with a sharp crack. Hiccup shrieked again as he fell to the floor, narrowly missing his face and avoiding losing a tooth. Stoick, who had been holding onto a handle at the side of the basket, lifted him to his feet with a single massive arm and brushed the dust off his clothes.

"Probably should've warned you about the sudden stop, eh, son?"

"Probably." Hiccup muttered.

Stoick wound a wench located in the corner of the basket that lowered them safely to the stone floor. They exited the basket, Stoick with his usual massive strides and Hiccup in manner that resembled Snotlout after a pillaging the wine cupboard. He was surprised that he wasn't violently hurling.

They headed along the dark corridor leading away from the basket that seemingly went on forever. However, they eventually exited the tunnel through a small door that Hiccup had never noticed before in the palace courtyard. It took a moment for Hiccup's eyes to adjust to the light created by the torches surrounding them. When they did, he saw his horse, Night, being held by a tired-looking groom in the centre of the courtyard.

When he caught sight of his master, the black stallion whinnied gently. Hiccup walked unsteadily towards him and stroked his velvety nose. Stoick, meanwhile, tied the bags to Night's saddle and talked quietly with the groom. The man tied a third bag (which presumably contained things for Night) to the saddle before disappearing back inside the castle.

"Are you ready, son?"

Hiccup nodded, suddenly unable to speak. Fear, excitement and anticipation (not to mention, nausea) were all boiling in his stomach and threatening to make him sick. With an expertise gained by years of practice, he swung himself into Night's saddle and adjusted the stirrups and girth from his position in the saddle. The horse pawed the ground, eager to be off.

"Your guide will meet you at the Hollow Oak in Raven Forest. You know where it is. I've sent their money to the Ingremans so you don't have to worry about paying them. They don't know how to get there so you'll have to use the map in the saddlebags to help you find your way. I hope that your geography sessions didn't go to waste."

Hiccup chuckled nervously. "They didn't. Be safe, Dad."

"I will be, son. It's yourself that you need to worry about. If the protector I've assigned doesn't see you to the Ingremans safely then they'll have me to answer to." Stoick took a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself. "We'll see each other again when all of this is over. Be brave, my son."

"I will, Dad."

Both men jumped in alarm when the main doors of the castle were thrown open. A group of approximately thirty men emerged, each carrying weapons of varying size and deadliness. Leading the pack was Spitelout, with his son, Snotlout, just behind him. Snotlout was clutching his axe so hard that his knuckles were white and he appeared to be holding back vomit - whether from fear or the large amount of alcohol that he had consumed at dinner, Hiccup didn't know.

"I didn't take you for a fleeing coward, Stoick!" Spitelout's voice boomed out across the courtyard. Night danced nervously beneath Hiccup at the sound of his voice.

"When I say go, you go." Stoick muttered.

"I can't leave you with them, Dad!" Hiccup replied, quietly but urgently.

Stoick ignored him. "Says the man who holds a weapon in front of his king." He bellowed to his brother.

"You're not my king." Spitelout spat on the ground. "You and your kid are unworthy of the throne. My son, Snotlout Jorgenson, is the true king!"

The men around them cheered. Snotlout, however, appeared utterly terrified and could barely manage a squeak.

Stoick adopted his most lordly tone, which Hiccup guessed he had done to spite Spitelout. "You know not what you speak of, brother. Do not attack me with foul words – drop your weapons and come back inside my castle."

"This is your castle no longer, Stoick! From this night forward, you and your son shall never sit upon the throne. It is time that the Jorgensons seize the crown!"

"Now!" Stoick whispered while Spitelout basked in the cheers of his followers.

When Hiccup did nothing, Stoick whacked Night on the rear with the flat of his palm. The horse squealed and bolted towards the open gates.

"Get them!" bellowed Spitelout.

Hiccup twisted around in the saddle. He watched helplessly as the warriors that his father had once called friends surrounded him. Stoick fought valiantly, taking down five of the men with his bare hands, but the numbers proved too much for him. Six of them held him back while Spitelout walked to the front of the group and spat in the king's face.

Desperate, Hiccup yanked on Night's reins until he stopped, intending to go back and save his father. Even from a distance, he could hear Spitelout's every word.

"Any last words, brother?"

Stoick grinned ruefully. "Hiccup shall be the king when you kill me. You shall never rule Berk."

"Your son can't be king when he's dead. With the knowledge that I will kill him like I will kill you, you shall die."

In his final seconds, Stoick turned his head. When his eyes locked onto the stricken prince, he mouthed one final word.

Son.

Then Spitelout plunged his sword into his heart.

* * *

 **A/N ~ That's it. Breathe it all in. Breathe in the death of Stoick the Vast. Enjoy your daily dose of character death.**

 **Hello, all.**

 **This story is going through the process of being re-written. I'm uploading the first chapter in the hope that it'll pressurise me to finally get it done. This means that I may finish it - and I may not. If I give up on this story, it will be deleted. If I don't, I already have plans for sequels that will follow more of the HTTYD plotline. We'll see how it goes. Don't try and make an update schedule happen because you'll be wasting your time.**

 **I'm going to edit chapter two as soon as this is up. Just know that this story isn't going to be the main focus of my life and it _may_ be deleted.**

 **If I've made any mistakes, please let me know (constructively). If you like this story then please let me know. If you don't... go read something else. All reviews will be appreciated beyond belief. :D**

 **My apologies if I seem a bit arsey. I've written this A/N about five times and have about as much patience as a Monstrous Nightmare.**

 **I'll see you when I see you. ;)**


	2. Chapter Two - Astrid

**Chapter Two: Astrid**

Hiccup felt as if his own heart was being wrenched from his chest as he watched Spitelout draw the bloody blade out of his father's flesh and kick the soulless shell away.

He had killed him. His father was dead.

In that moment, Hiccup wished for nothing more than to be the one to take the sword.

His father was gone.

He was dead.

Hiccup didn't realise that he had said anything until his anguished cry attracted his uncle's attention. Spitelout's blood-splattered face turned on his nephew. Eyes bright with bloodlust, the man screeched at his followers: "Get him! Kill him! He can't be allowed to escape!"

In that moment, Hiccup had no fears or reservations about dying. If his father was no longer living, breathing and existing, Hiccup could see no reason to do so himself.

 _Hiccup shall be the king when you kill me. You shall never rule Berk._

His father wanted him to be king. If Hiccup died, Spitelout would've won. If he died, Hiccup would be reunited with his father in Valhalla – but that would leave Spitelout as the ruler of Berk. The people of Berk, people that his father was willing to lay his life down for, would be ruled by a corrupt and evil king.

Stoick wanted Hiccup to live. If that was what he wanted, that was what would happen.

The men began to approach Hiccup, arms outstretched to grab Night's reins and weapons ready to spill his blood. Hiccup knew that he was no match for them. If he tried to fight, there was no chance that he would survive. His only hope was the Ingremans and the unnamed warrior that had been assigned to protect him.

One day, he would return.

His eyes were drawn to his father's lifeless body, outstretched and bloody at his uncle's feet. Hiccup choked down a sob and turned Night towards the gates. The horse responded eagerly to the touch of his heels and bolted across the cobblestone courtyard, the sounds of his hooves echoing painfully in Hiccup's ears. Behind him, Hiccup heard the angry shouts of the men and furious shrieks of his uncle as he ordered them to follow him.

Night thundered out of the gates, the surface of his feet transferring from stone to grass as Hiccup steered him towards Raven Forest. In the distance, to his right, Hiccup spied the small village that resided at the end of the road leading up to the castle. He could see faint lights emitting from lamps and windows, standing out like stars against the dark summer sky. Most of the villagers would be asleep, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had just occurred.

The castle and village vanished behind them as Night passed by the first trees, barely slowing as he did so. Hiccup ducked to avoid the low branches hanging down from the great oaks. Beneath him, Night danced to avoid fallen logs and tree roots. The woods were silent save for the thundering of his hooves and Hiccup's gasping sobs.

Hiccup glanced back and saw that his uncle's men were lagging far behind. They had barely reached the first trees. Determined to keep his lead, Hiccup urged Night on.

The Hollow Oak, where Hiccup was supposed to meet his protector, was an hour long walk into the forest. The Oak was a large tree that had been struck by a blast of lightning years before Hiccup was born. It had been left with a large, jagged cut down the centre of the trunk and a few charred branches were no leaves grew. The Vikings of Berk had adopted it as a place of worship for the god of lightning, Thor. When Hiccup was younger, Stoick had put aside his kingly duties for a day so that he could take him there. At the time, Hiccup had been somewhat frightened by the charred wood, thinking that a branch would break and hit him on the head or, worst of all, that the tree would come alive and gobble him up in one bite. He hadn't been there since.

Now, he was returning. Alone.

A clear path led the way to the Oak. On Night, the journey only took a few minutes. Hiccup kept his eyes on the forest ahead of them, forcing the job of steering his horse to consume all other thought. Although his body still shook with sobs and tears leaked out of his eyes, he was determined to keep his mind focused and clear.

Eventually, the path opened up to a large clearing. The Hollow Oak stood in the centre, as charred and broken as it had been when Hiccup had first laid eyes on it. Hiccup found himself incapable of looking at it for more than a fleeting moment. It reminded him too much of the day he had spent with his father.

Hiccup slowed Night to a halt just in front of the Oak. He listened intently and looked behind him for any sounds of pursuit and was unsurprised when he heard nothing. It would take Spitelout a substantial amount of time to saddle the horses and stoke the men to find him.

If only his protector would show up. Then, they could be long gone and out of his uncle's grasp.

A twig snapped somewhere to his right.

Hiccup whipped his head around just in time to see something large leaded straight for his face. Instincts kicking in, Hiccup ducked so fast that he hit his face against Night's neck. Hiccup felt the thing pass over his head and head it embed in a nearby tree with a dull _thunk._

After a moment, when no more projectiles came his way, Hiccup raised his head. Spurred by the instinctual need for survival, his heart thundered against his chest with the desperation of a bird trying to escape a cage. His breath came out in short, bursting gasps.

Hiccup's eyes immediately went to the thing that had nearly killed him. It was a battle-axe with a handle wrapped in leather and a blade that glinted a deadly silver in the moonlight. From how deeply it was embedded in a nearby tree, Hiccup could tell that it was thrown with immense strength.

After a moment of staring, transfixed, at the weapon that had nearly taken his life, Hiccup looked around for the owner. His eyes landed on a person in the centre of the clearing who he was sure hadn't been there moments before. The person's arms were folded, muscular and bare across their front, and their face was shadowed by the overlarge hood of their cloak. He felt a flicker of fear at the sight of them but nothing more.

Hiccup watched the person walk around the front of his horse without so much as glancing at him and towards the tree that the axe was lodged in. The person wrapped the hands around the handle and, with a grunt, yanked it out of the tree. As they did so, their hood fell away.

A long braid, pale gold in the moonlight, spilled over the person's back. When the person turned around, Hiccup was able to look at their face for the first time. The person was a woman. Even Hiccup's grief-stricken mind, he could see that she was very beautiful. Her blonde fringe framed her face perfectly, her lips were full and pink. What stood out most to him were her eyes. They were a beautiful azure in colour and as old and cynical as the eyes of a person who had lived a thousand lives.

"You escaped with your life because I allowed it. Answer me or find out what it feels like to have an axe embedded in your brain. Are you the prince?" The woman asked, propping her axe against her shoulder in a casually threatening manner.

Her threats didn't scare him. Hiccup's emotions felt dull and out of touch, like they were separated from him by a large wall. (Besides, he was sure that he had saved his own life by ducking as opposed to what the woman had said.) Apart from his instinctual reaction to having an axe thrown at his head, he felt nothing. However, he didn't doubt that he would be terrified by the woman under ordinary circumstances.

Nonetheless, he answered her. "I am. Who are you?"

Running her finger along the blade of the axe, the woman answered: "Astrid Hofferson." She bowed to him mockingly. "At your service. Your father promised me three hundred gold pieces if I kept you alive long enough to reach your friend's estate. I'm assuming you know that."

It took a moment for the news to sink in. "But you're… you're…" Hiccup began.

Astrid Hofferson glared at him. "I'm a woman? Well, you're very observant." She snorted. "Lacking a piece of meat between my legs doesn't make me any less capable of embedding this axe in your brain. Don't think that just because I happen to have breasts that I will be anything more than your protector. I will not be your nanny. I will not be your mother. I will not be your friend. I will not be some whore that you can play with and get your hands dirty."

Hiccup opened his mouth to say that he didn't expect her to be his "whore". (Unlike Snotlout, he actually respected women.) She continued before he could. "If you don't want my help, I have no reservations about killing you and taking everything you own – prince or not. It's your choice." After a moment, she added: "The king thought I was good enough for the job. Hopefully, you'll have the same good judgement."

The mention of his father was like a punch to the gut that Hiccup pointedly ignored. He looked into her hard blue eyes and knew, then and there, that he needed Astrid Hofferson. He had no doubts about her ability to murder him and, consequently, her ability to keep him alive.

"Do you have any proof?" He asked gruffly, referring to her employment by his father.

Astrid reached behind her head, placing her axe in a leather sling on her back. She turned her back on him and walked towards the Hollow Oak. She disappeared behind it and reappeared moments later leading a dappled grey mare. The mare was wearing a saddle covered in strange leather straps and a bridle made of scruffy leather. Attached to the saddle was a small saddlebag, a sword in a scabbard and a bow and wooden quiver of arrows.

Night stepped towards Astrid's horse and sniffed at her. He had been shuddering violently moments before due to the axe that Astrid had thrown and immediately calmed down in the mare's presence. As the horses investigated each other, Astrid dipped her hand into her saddlebag and pulled out a paper scroll. She handed it to Hiccup wordlessly and began to fidget with her horse's saddle, tightening the girth and fiddling with the straps.

Hiccup unravelled the scroll and was immediately hit with the familiar sight of his father's handwriting. He bit his lip, blinking back tears. There was no way that he would allow himself to cry in front of a stranger.

The scroll stated that somebody named A.H - which he guessed stood for Astrid Hofferson - would accompany him to the Ingremans, protecting him from anybody who meant him ill. She would defend him against man and dragon and do everything short of laying her life down for him. (This appeared to Hiccup to be a prominent flaw in the contract.) A sum of three hundred gold pieces was promised – enough to buy a sizeable house – once Hiccup reached the Ingremans alive. After Hiccup had reached the Ingremans safely, Astrid would leave with her money and they would never had to see each other again. At the bottom, both Stoick and Astrid had signed it. Compared to his father's untidy scrawl, Astrid's handwriting was surprisingly elegant.

Staring at the scroll, Hiccup felt a brief flicker of anger. Stoick had known that Hiccup was in danger long enough to seek a meeting with Astrid, negotiate a contract and have them both sign it but hadn't thought to grace his son with any of the information. He hadn't even told him that his life was in danger.

 _If he'd told me, he might not have died_ thought Hiccup bitterly.

The prince fiercely blinked away a fresh onslaught of tears. He rolled up the scroll, just wanting to do something with his hands, and nudged Night forward until he was stood next to Astrid. In the time that it had taken him to read the scroll, she had removed her heavy cloak and stowed it in her saddlebag. She was wearing a dark red shirt, brown leggings and a brown leather hunting jacket. The handle of a dagger was poking out of the top of her right fur boot. Although the summer night was warm, goosebumps stood to attention on her muscular bare arms.

"Think I'm good enough to save your life, your highness?" Astrid asked. She stowed the scroll away in her bag and stared up at him, obvious challenge in her eyes.

For some reason, this sparked a shred of irritation of Hiccup. "I guess you'll do. You almost took my head off, after all." He quipped with a trace of his old sarcasm.

Snorting, Astrid rolled her eyes. "I'd kill you right now if you didn't happen to owe me a lot of money." Stepping away from him, she grabbed her horse's reins and saddle and mounted with an expertise that Hiccup could only dream of achieving.

"Aren't you going to tell me who you are?" Hiccup asked as he watched her sit more comfortably in the saddle.

"You know my name." Astrid stated gruffly, slipping her feet into the stirrups and shortening her reins.

"I need to know more about you than your name. How can I trust you to save my life if I don't know anything about you?"

"Are there men following you?"

Surprised by her question, Hiccup nodded.

"Then let's save the idle chit chat until your life isn't in danger." Astrid replied, smirking at him. "Where are we going?"

Scowling, Hiccup twisted around in the saddle and began to rummage through the nearest saddlebag. Stoick had mentioned something about a map. Although it pained him to rummage through the belongings that his father had so carefully packed for him, Hiccup knew that time was running short. He found the map quickly and pulled it out, unravelling it over his lap.

Raven Forest took up most of the map, standing thick and strong in the centre of the isle of Berk. The dense woods were both Berk's steadiest ally and greatest enemy. They provided fuel and food, whilst also being home to the deadliest creatures on the island: dragons.

Dragons. The fierce, fire breathing beasts that destroyed everything in their way without any regard for whether it was a tree or a Viking. The creatures without mind, consciousness, thought or need other than to serve the leader of their respective nests. Hiccup thanked the gods that they had chosen not to raid that night. He didn't need two things hunting him.

Hiccup instantly found the castle on the map. His home was situated on a large stretch of land between the forest and the sea. After that, he quickly found the Hollow Oak and the Ingreman Estate, where Fishlegs lived with his father. The estate was practically on the other side of the island and it took a month to travel from there to the castle if one avoided the forest. Luckily, Hiccup had no intentions of doing so.

The quickest route to he Ingremans would be cutting straight through the forest. Hiccup knew that doing so would be a bad idea. Taking the path through the centre of the forest would mean that they would doubtlessly encounter one of the many smaller dragon nests located throughout the woods. That was something he wanted to avoid doing.

It took only a minute for Hiccup to decide the best route. Running throughout the entire forest was a river that happened to pass directly by the Ingreman Estate. It was known by the whole of Berk as the river Jor. If they followed it, they would have a constant guide and always know which direction to go in. The river would also provide a good food and water source as animals needed to go there to drink. One downside came to mind: although Spitelout probably didn't know where Hiccup was going, following the river would make him easier to find. In the end, Hiccup decided that it was a chance they were going to have to take. Following the river would only take them three weeks at the most.

He quickly explained all of this to Astrid, who listened attentively and without interruption. When he finished, he asked her if she had any objections or better ideas. This seemed to surprise her. After a moment, she just shrugged, saying: "I'm not here to make the decisions. I'm only here to save your life."

Hiccup stowed the map away and adjusted his reins. "The river is a few minutes' ride away from here. We'll need to cross it in order to-"

"Shut up." Astrid snapped, holding up a finger to silence him.

Hiccup glared at her, opening his mouth to retort, when he heard it too: the thundering of hoofbeats.

Astrid swore loudly and gathered up her reins. She raised her eyebrows at him, smirking. "After you, your majesty."

Hiccup didn't even react to what he assumed was mockery. He steered Night onto the path leading away from the castle and spurred the stallion into a canter. Astrid did the same moments later. The Hollow Oak soon vanished behind them as they were swallowed by the endless woods.

His heart thundered against his chest, growing stronger with every distant hoofbeat. Hiccup glanced at Astrid, who was riding just behind him. She was bent low over her horse's neck and her eyes were narrowed. Despite the danger that snapped at their heels, she seemed more focused than afraid.

To Hiccup's dismay, the trees around them grew less in number, exposing them fully to their pursuers. The thundering hooves grew louder with each passing moment. Somehow, they were gaining ground. After a minute of being tailed, a shrill twang filled Hiccup's ears. He ducked instinctively, hitting his face against Night's neck for the second time, and heard the resounding _thunk_ as the arrow embedded itself in the trunk of a nearby tree. Moments later, another arrow followed, this time narrowly missing his arm.

Hiccup turned around to get a proper look at their pursuers. It was easy to see them through the thinning trees; there were twelve men in total, each of whom he recognised and had spoken to often. Their expressions, once amicable, were furious and contorted by bloodlust.

There were two archers. Both of them shared a horse with one of their comrades, meaning that one of the pair could steer while the other attempted to fill Hiccup with arrows. Six more arrows were shot at the prince, each of them narrowly missing.

Hiccup saw Astrid shuffling around in the saddle in the corner of his eye. He considered calling out to her, sure that she would fall out of the saddle and be trampled to death, but she cut across him before he could.

"I'm going to try and shoot them! Hold onto Storm's reins!" She bellowed.

Hiccup was confused for a moment but didn't allow himself to dither. She was probably talking about her horse. Making sure to keep Night on the right path, Hiccup steered the stallion closer to Astrid's mare and tried to grab the reins. Although Astrid had loosened them considerably, he still missed a few times before finally grasping the leather straps and holding them along with his own.

While he tried to keep his gaze on the path ahead, Hiccup couldn't help but watch Astrid out of the corner of his eye. No longer having to worry about guiding her horse, she freed her feet from the stirrups and, wobbling as she did so, twisted her entire body around in the saddle until she was sat facing their pursuers. Her incredible balance whilst upon a moving animal astounded him. She moved seamlessly, almost unaffected by the sure death that she would face if she fell.

Gripping the saddle tightly with her knees, Astrid looped the buckled straps attached to her saddle around her legs and tied them tightly, effectively securing herself backwards in the saddle. It took her a while to free her bow from the saddle and open the top of the wooden quiver. Hands shaking slightly, Astrid grabbed an arrow, notched it and shot it at the nearest man.

She missed, eliciting vindictive cheers from the men. They soon stopped laughing when she managed to shoot one man (not an archer) in the chest and take down one of the horses. After taking out two more men with four arrows, nine remained. After missing again twice and having to pause in her shooting to duck and avoid an arrow, Astrid brought down three more men. One of the remaining men was an archer.

In the distance, Hiccup spied a line of silver poking out from between the trees. It took him a moment to realise that it was a river – the river Jor. Although it was narrow in the part of the forest near the castle, the river was unquestionably deep and there was no way of telling how strong the current would be. Hiccup doubted that he could steer Night through the current, much less Astrid's horse as well.

"The river!" he bellowed to Astrid.

The warrior twisted her body to look at him. Hiccup pointed ahead of them towards the river and Astrid had to squint for a moment to see it. The moment she did, she closed the quiver of her arrows and loosely attached her bow to the saddle. Frantically, she freed the straps from around her legs and twisted around in the saddle again, wincing as her axe bumped against her back. She wobbled at one point and Hiccup felt his heart leap into his mouth.

After slipping her feet back into the stirrups, Astrid grabbed the reins from Hiccup and pressed her body against her horse's neck to avoid an onslaught of arrows. After she had taken down half of them, the final archer seemed more focused on getting revenge than carrying out his task to kill Hiccup.

The river Jor grew closer with each passing second. Hiccup gathered his reins tighter and gripped harder with his knees, preparing for frigidity and a possibly strong current. It didn't seem fast from the distance but looks could be deceiving. Seconds before they entered the river, the horses balked and shied. Hiccup and Astrid wasted a few seconds urging them in. In the time that it took, his uncle's men gained ground.

Finally, they horses entered the river. Both animals squealed at the bitter temperature of the water, kicking the icy liquid into Hiccup and Astrid's faces. Immediately, the water swelled up to Hiccup's knees and Astrid's waist. The sudden coldness made them both gasp. Holding the reins with one hand, they grabbed their belongings with the other to keep them from being swept away. Hiccup thanked Odin that the current wasn't, as he had guessed, too strong.

Both Hiccup and Astrid realised too late that trying to cross the river gave the one remaining archer the perfect opportunity to shoot.

Moments after the thought crossed his mind, Hiccup felt something embed itself in his shoulder and heard the men behind him cheer. A second later, the pain came. It spread across his back, hot and burning, deadening his arm and bringing black spots to the edge of his vision. Vaguely, he heard himself scream and felt blood trickle down his back. He slumped forward in the saddle and felt Night's reins slide out of his grip. He didn't care. All he cared about was the pain – the breath-taking, unbelievable, Odin-make-it-stop pain. Pain consumed him. His entire existence was pain.

 _So this is what it feels like to die._

"Prince Hiccup? Oh, Thor!"

Astrid's voice seemed distant, like he was completely submerged in the river rushing around his legs and Astrid was living and breathing above. He didn't comprehend that Astrid had grabbed Night's reins and was pulling both horses towards the riverbank. He didn't realise that they were moving, slowly but surely, through the river.

 _I'm sorry, Dad._

Hiccup felt death gripping at him. He imagined seeing his father again. In Valhalla, they would be reunited.

He didn't even realise that the water was gone. He didn't realise that Astrid had dragged them onto dry land.

A high-pitched, screeching whistle filled his ears. Hiccup's darkened vision cleared slightly at the sound. He looked up, blinking blearily as he looked for the source of the noise. It came from somewhere above him. From above the leaves, the stars seemed to vanish and reappear seconds later. It took Hiccup a moment to realise that it was because something was covering the stars. The something crossed in front of the moon. That was when Hiccup realised what it was.

"Night Fury…" he heard Astrid whisper.

Hiccup remembered the Night Fury. When he was a child, he had learned to fear their cries as he had listened to them from underneath his father's bed. To this day, they still haunted him. He had always associated the dragons with fear – that was why he had named his horse after them. When he remembered the fear that the dragons had inspired in him, riding a horse didn't seem so scary.

These thoughts and more dashed through Hiccup's delirious mind as he watched the Night Fury swoop downwards. He vaguely heard cries of: "Get down!" from his Spitelout's men.

The dragon grew closer and closer. Hiccup saw it open its gigantic maw. Seconds later, the opposite side of the river exploded with purple fire.

Hiccup was knocked forward in the saddle by the blast of the fire. Night balked and whined, rearing slightly and shifting Hiccup back in the saddle. Astrid was the only thing that stopped him from bolting. Unaware of it all, Hiccup moaned with pain, not attempting to move and just wanting to die.

He wanted to die.

Screams drowned out all other sounds in the near-silent night as the men burned to death. Hiccup watched their flaming bodies vaguely, sure that he would be next and not caring. He thought of his father and was glad that he would see him again.

The Night Fury, after releasing a final torrent of blasts on the charred bodies, landed on their side of the river just a few metres downstream. It blended in with the trees and the night sky behind it, leaving its green eyes standing out like lanterns in the gloom. The eyes - brighter, more beautiful and deadly than glowing emeralds or raging fire – stared into his soul.

In that moment, Hiccup felt his fear vanish. It was just him and the dragon in another world entirely. Even the pain diminished somewhat. For a single eternity, he felt connected to what he had always considered a mindless beast.

"Go on! Get out of here!" Astrid snarled. She reached into her boot and pulled out the dagger that had, somehow, survived the river. She threw it at the dragon with all of her strength. The puny blade glanced off what Hiccup could see of the dragon's wing like it was no more than a pebble. "Fly away, mindless beast!"

"Don't hurt it. It's not going to kill us." Hiccup murmured. Each word was agony and it was all for naught. Astrid clearly didn't hear him. She pulled her axe out of the sling on her back, preparing to throw it.

The fiery green eyes blinked once, slowly. Hiccup was sure that he heard the dragon make a small crooning noise. Then, with a rush of air from its gigantic wings, it vanished into the endless night.

* * *

 **A/N ~ So I shot Hiccup... because he can't suffer enough, can he?**

 **Hello, all.**

 **I finished this on Sunday and I was going to wait until Saturday to upload but chapter three has been strangely difficult to write. I'm hoping that uploading will inspire me!**

 **What did you think? Did I try to do too much in this chapter? Personally, I think so, but it makes it more exciting. I doubt that the next few chapters will be as interesting so I apologise for that. It'll mostly be Hiccstrid doing their best not to hate each other.**

 **Thank you so much to everybody who reviewed, favorited and followed! You guys are the best. Please point out and mistakes or plot holes in this chapter. Anything constructive will be appreciated. Every review means the world to me.**

 **I'll see you when I see you. ;)**


	3. Chapter Three - Please

**Chapter Three: Please**

As soon as the Night Fury vanished, Hiccup felt his agony return with full force. He slumped forward in the saddle, closing his eyes and attempting to ignore the pain the struck him with each beat of his heart. The arrow was still embedded in the right side of his upper back and he could feel his flesh tearing as it slowly began to slip out. He did his best to keep still, hoping that it would somehow make the pain go away.

"Prince Hiccup? Prince Hiccup, can you hear me?"

The acrid stench of burning flesh filled Hiccup's nostrils. The men had stopped screaming, their souls having left their bodies long ago, although the fire consuming their flesh still illuminated the forest around them. He could still see the flickering flames from beneath the closed lids of his eyes.

"Prince Hiccup? Thor, please say you aren't dead."

Hiccup managed to shift his head to look at Astrid, causing a spurt blood to escape the wound and trickle down his back. He blinked back tears, his eyes locking onto her face. Beads of sweat covered her forehead and her azure eyes were bright in the light of the burning bodies.

A word escaped his lips. He loathed it for making him seem so weak, so helpless, so useless.

"Please."

A firm determination filled Astrid's eyes. She dismounted cautiously walked over to Night, steadying the skittish horse with a hand to his muzzle when she reached him. When the stallion was calm, she made her way around him and freed Hiccup's feet from the stirrups.

"Try to get off. I can catch you." She hesitated. "Well, I can try."

Hiccup nodded weakly. He cautiously lifted one leg over the saddle, feeling his muscles constrict around the arrowhead and being unable to stop himself from crying out. Biting his lip, he used his left hand to push himself out of the saddle. He was weightless for a second before his boots hit the ground, causing an agonising jolt to ripple through his body. The instant his feet hit the ground, Astrid placed her hands under his arms to steady him. It wasn't a catch, but it helped.

"Kneel down. I'm going to pull the arrow out."

Hiccup nodded and, wincing, did as she said. He watched her through blurry eyes as she walked over to the nearest tree and picked up a stick.

"Bite down on this."

The thought of putting something so filthy in his mouth disgusted him but Hiccup decided that he wasn't in a position to protest. He opened his mouth obediently and Astrid slipped the piece of wood inside. As soon as he bit down on it, she pulled the knife out of his boot and walked around to his back. Hiccup tensed automatically, unable to banish the image of her slipping his own dagger between his ribs in his moment of venerability. He sucked in a painful breath when he felt the cold metal press against his skin. Instead of driving the knife into him, Astrid cut away his shirt in three slices and tossed the tattered remains to one side. (It was an expensive garment made by the greatest tailor in all of Berk but Hiccup didn't have the mental capacity to care.)

"I'm no medic." Astrid whispered breathily. She must've seen him tense, because she released a panicky laugh that was more air than sound. "Sorry, that must've sounded awful. Don't worry – I've seen more than enough arrows pulled out in my lifetime. I've never done one myself, though."

Hiccup prepared to protest and then realised the horrifying truth – he had no other option. His life was in Astrid's hands.

"I normally would've purified the knife but we don't have time." Astrid muttered, mostly to herself. She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "I'm not going to lie – this is going to hurt. Keep biting down on that stick."

Hiccup nodded, apprehension twisting his stomach into a tight knot. He felt Astrid place a hand on his naked back (he was too focused on getting the arrow out to be embarrassed) and felt a sharp stab of pain as she closed the other around the arrow.

Unexpectedly, Astrid twisted the arrow around instead of immediately pulling it out, eliciting a muffled sob from Hiccup. "It hasn't gone deep enough to reach bone. The shaft's still attached to the arrowhead, so I should be able to pull it out pretty easily."

Hiccup wondered how she knew so much about arrow wounds but all other thoughts were cancelled out when Astrid began to work at his back. First, she placed her finger in and began to probe the wound, checking how deep it was and how much room surrounded it. Then, she began to push away at the flesh surrounding the arrow (both with his knife and her finger) until there was more room around the arrowhead. Finally, ever so gently, she began to work the arrow out of his flesh.

The agony was indescribable. Hiccup could feel his skin and muscle tearing as Astrid slowly wriggled the arrow out. He thanked every god that he had ever prayed to that his father had never allowed his men to be armed with barbed arrows – if he had, the state of his back would be a very different one. He was glad that Astrid had thought of the stick as he felt a scream of pain rise in his throat. If the stick hadn't been there, he probably would've bitten off his own tongue while he yelled.

When the arrow was finally gone, there was nothing to plug the wound. Blood began to trickle down his back in a steady stream, hot, thick and fast. Tears ran down his face at an even greater pace, blinding him to everything except his agony.

Astrid swore loudly. She picked up what remained of his shirt and pressed it firmly against the wound. The garment was quickly soaked, the once green fabric stained scarlet. Swearing again, she pulled the shirt away and balled up everything except the sleeves against the wound. Then, leaning so far forward that he could feel her warm breath against his naked skin, she wrapped the sleeves around his front, crossed them and tied them tightly against his back.

Realising that there was a better solution, Hiccup opened his mouth, allowing the stick to fall onto his lap. His throat was sore and wracked from his silent screaming. He coughed once and felt saliva dribble down his chin. When it dripped onto his lap, he realised that there was a significant amount of blood mixed with the spittle. The sight terrified him. He hoped that it was due to his to screaming rather than the hole in his back.

"There are medical supplies in one of my saddlebags." He managed, coughing up more blood.

He heard the sound of twigs underfoot as Astrid stood up and walked over to the horses. The loyal animals had been standing still the entire time, waiting for the whims of their masters. He heard rustling as she rifled thorough one of the bags. Moments later, she returned holding a bundle of bandages and a bottle of water. She knelt behind him again and began to unwrap his ruined shirt. The second it fell away, blood began to trickle down his back again and pool at the top of his trousers.

This time, Astrid didn't panic or swear. She began to pour water on his back, washing the blood away and cleaning the wound itself. Even though it hurt, the pain was significantly less intense than it had been when she had pulled the arrow out. She began to probe the wound with her finger again, searching for traces of metal, fabric or splinters and pulling a couple out before returning to washing it. Eventually, she poured the rest of the water over his back and used the bandages to tie the wound as tightly as possible without cutting off his air supply.

"Luckily, the wound isn't too deep and you haven't burst and vessels or shattered any bones. The problem is the arrow itself - the head was filthy and there are still a couple of splinters from the shaft and bits of cloth from your shirt. It might become infected."

Hiccup grunted in response, in too much pain to care. Astrid stood up, holding the arrow in her bloody hands. He heard the splashing of water and assumed that she was washing her hands in the river. Instead of looking around properly, he just knelt there and tried to stop crying.

Moments later, Astrid returned holding a clean arrow. She knelt in front of him and considered his face, even when he tried to look away. After a minute, Hiccup looked into her eyes. The first traces of dawn were beginning to stretch across the horizon, turning her azure eyes to golden fire. Her beauty, possibly more profound than it had been when he first laid eyes on her, transformed into something unearthly.

Without a word or explanation for her staring, Astrid cupped Hiccup's left elbow and helped him to his feet. She walked over to Storm and slipped the arrow into the open quiver attached to the saddle.

"You're keeping it?" Hiccup asked, his voice thin and wavering.

"An arrow is an arrow." She replied, walking in front of her horse's face and beginning to stroke her nose. "Can you ride?" she asked, without at him.

Hiccup looked over at Night, who nickered gently and stepped over to him, placing his velvety nose in the prince's outstretched hand. Suddenly, the stallion seemed a lot taller.

"I can try."

* * *

He tried and, despite the endless agony, did not fail. An hour after he had struggled into a spare shirt, after they had tossed his tattered old one into the river, after Astrid had given him a leg-up into the saddle and he had gripped the reins with numb fingers, they stopped in a small clearing to eat breakfast and rest the horses. The sun was half risen, glowing in iridescent colours of pink and gold between the trees and making the silvery river reflect a soft glow.

Hiccup ignored the flash of pain that danced across his back as he swung his leg over Night's saddle. He was glad that Astrid didn't see him stumble as his feet hit the ground, or see the tears that welled up in his eyes before he could blink them away. She was busy removing her mare's saddle as the horse drank thirstily from the river.

Hiccup lead Night over to stand next to Storm and rubbed the horse's sweaty neck while he drank. As much as he wanted to remove his saddle, as Astrid had done for her horse, he knew that he couldn't do it due to how numb his right arm was. Instead, he pulled the saddlebags off with his left hand and began to rummage through them for some breakfast. He discovered a piece of cheese wrapped in basil leaves, the remains of a pie that they had at last night's dinner, a large piece of bread, an apple, several strips of dried meat and two bottles of water. Desperate to satiate the growling hunger in his stomach, he ate half of the bread smeared with cheese, two of the meat strips and drank half of a bottle of water before he had even considered rationing it. Aching and exhausted, he lay his least favourite jacket out on the ground and sat upon it, watching the sun rise from between the trees with unseeing eyes.

Astrid led Storm away from the river and retrieved a loaf of bread from her saddlebag. She filled her empty bottle with a larger flask from her saddlebag and stood next to her horse as she sipped from it, absently stroking the mare's neck. Her gaze occasionally flickered to Hiccup when she thought he wasn't looking.

After a few minutes of silence, Hiccup heard her sigh and looked up, startled. She was fiddling with her bread, breaking off crumbs and rolling them between her fingers before she ate them.

"Why were those men trying to kill you?" she asked, glancing at him quickly before looking away again.

Hiccup watched her carefully, wondering why she cared enough to seek the answer. Surely, she only cared about the money his father had sent to the Ingremans – not why she was earning it. He decided that he was probably just curious.

He wasn't sure if he trusted her yet but, after a moment's hesitation, decided to answer truthfully. "They were commanded to by my uncle. He wants to be king and the only way he'll be able to is if I'm out of the way. At least, I think that's why. There probably a much deeper and madder reason, knowing him."

Astrid nodded, her frown deepening a little. Then, in a voice that was surprisingly quiet, she asked: "Did he kill your father?"

Hiccup picked up a twig in his aching right hand and began to tear away strips of the wood with his left. He hated himself for the tears that welled up in his eyes. He could still see Spitelout plunging his sword into his father's body, see his father's mouth shape his final word, see his body crumple as Spitelout drew the sword out of his father's chest. Inhaling deeply, he made sure to steady his voice before replying: "Yes."

Astrid looked up at him. He was surprised by her expression – she was still frowning, as if she were trying to figure out a complicated puzzle, but her eyes were filled with empathy. After a minute of silence, she said simply: "He was a good king."

Hiccup remembered his father's charisma, his wisdom, the love that he had for his son and his people. Hearing Astrid acknowledge the fact was oddly comforting.

Hesitantly, he considered her eyes. "Thank you." He said. For saving his life last night and early that morning, for not outwardly judging him for his tears or his weakness, for offering five simple words of comfort that somehow put his grieving heart at ease. He didn't think he had ever meant two words more.

* * *

 **A/N ~ Hello, all.**

 **This chapter was SO difficult to write and I'm honestly quite proud of myself for getting it done. It may have been boring, it might have been a waste of time and it probably wasn't interesting to read, BUT I FINISHED IT!**

 **In terms of future chapters, I'm guessing that the next one will be around the same length and just as interesting. Don't worry - the story will get better soon.**

 **Thank you to everybody who followed and favorited - a massive thank you to my reviewers especially. Without you guys doing all three things, chapter three would never have been written. Honestly, thank you so much.**

 **As always, I want to know what you guys thought of this chapter. Did you enjoy it? Did I research the right stuff for removing arrows or is it all wrong? Are there any writing errors? I'm too tired to check over this again so there probably will be. I'd like to know about anything I did wrong(constructively!). Each review means so, so, so, so much to me!**

 **I'll see you when I see you ;)**


	4. Chapter Four - Orphan

**Chapter Four: Orphan**

Astrid smiled faintly at him in acknowledgement before looking away quickly. Hiccup did the same at equal speed, flushing from embarrassment at his honesty and her polite yet disinterested reply.

 _You're just upset over… over Dad. Don't try and make friends,_ he thought, rebuking himself.

Despite what he instructed himself, he couldn't help it. Through his gratitude, Hiccup realised something: he was lonely. The part of his heart that his father had filled was empty, leaving a seemingly physical hole in his chest even larger than the one in his back. He wanted anybody, even Astrid, to fill it.

 _But it won't happen._

"We should get going." Astrid said presently, stuffing the rest of her bread into her mouth and lifting Storm's saddle off the fallen log that it had been resting on. "We need to get as much of a lead as possible."

Hiccup agreed to her suggestion with a nod, seeing the wisdom in her words despite the throbbing in his back and the fatigue clouding his eyes. He stood, wincing as he did so, and rolled up the garment that he had been sitting on before he stuffed it back into one of the saddlebags. Then, he led Night over to a fallen log near the edge of the clearing and used the reins to steady himself as he climbed onto it. He slipped one foot into the stirrup after a minute of struggling and swung his leg over the saddle, pointedly ignoring the jab of pain that he felt as a result of the action.

Astrid had already saddled her mare, mounted and was waiting for him expectantly. "Are we still following the river?" she asked.

Hiccup nodded, too distracted by his pain to do much else. He turned Night downstream and pressed his heels against the horse's sides, urging him into a trot. Astrid looked around the clearing once more before following, keeping Storm a few paces behind Night.

* * *

They rode from morning to midday to sunset, stopping at brief intervals to eat, drink and relieve themselves. Not a word was spoken. With only the clicks, chirps and rustles of the forest around them, there was little to distract Hiccup from his pain. Determined not to fall prey to weakness, as he quickly came to refer to his agony as, Hiccup mulled over the events that had taken place the night before.

Not his father's death. He had thought of that too much already.

Instead, he thought of Astrid and the Night Fury. With the awkwardness of his heart-on-sleeve-moment still drilling at him, he thought mostly of the Night Fury.

He couldn't understand it. Why did the Night Fury – the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself – spare them? After Astrid had thrown a knife at it, after it had killed Spitelout's men, after his ancestors had driven their breed to near-extinction, after dragons had hunted Vikings and Vikings had relished in striking back – why spare them? Why spare him?

He couldn't explain it. He couldn't understand it. He had looked in that dragon's eyes and _something_ had changed. He didn't want it dead and the dragon didn't want to kill him either – he would bet his leg on it. The question was _why?_

 _Dragons always go for the kill._

It was an ideology ingrained to him since he knew what a dragon was: that they were mindless, furious, bloodthirsty creatures ruling the kill or be killed world. He remembered the six words from his father, from his nursemaids and servants and the courtiers and the noblemen and from the one-armed blacksmith in the village who had first taught him to pound metal. It was a mantra left unchallenged until last night. It was forever known to him, from then on, as the night that changed everything.

Why did it spare them? Was it because he was injured? Because he was in pain? Was it because he was lonely and tired and afraid? Or was it because of that moment – that single, endless moment – where he suddenly knew and understood that the dragon wasn't a threat to him?

Hiccup looked over at Astrid, considering asking her thoughts on the matter. In the end, he decided that he might as well ask the sun or the moon or, hell, the dragon itself, what it thought. Unless she was somehow the queen of all dragons (which seemed quite unlikely) she would probably have less of an idea than he did himself.

After a few more minutes of mounting frustration, Hiccup decided to drop the question. He was just wasting his time. He would never learn the answer anyway.

With all of his questions about their encounter with the Night Fury unanswerable, he thought about Astrid. First and foremost, who she was. He guessed that she was a sellsword of sorts, though why his father had employed her to protect him instead of one of his most trusted men was a mystery to him. He wondered about her past: where did she live? Who were her family? Were they okay with her spending weeks alone with a stranger? Or was she an orphan?

Was she an orphan like him?

Hiccup's mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish as he went to ask each and every question and quickly thought better of it. Astrid - with her axe and her sword and her man's clothes and her excellent posture and her muscular bare arms and her perfect face and her thin, firm mouth – intimidated him.

Just a little bit.

Okay. A lot.

Not only that, but after he had thanked her earlier and she had done nothing more than smile in reply, he wasn't inclined to make conversation.

 _I'm a prince, for gods sake!_ he thought angrily, ashamed by his cowardice.

 _Not really. Not anymore. Not out here._

And it was true. For an unforeseeable amount of time, he would be sleeping on forest floors and avoiding roads and eating increasingly stale meals instead of sleeping in silk sheets and eating fine foods and having his endless amount of jobs act as his only problem. Disheartened by his new reality, Hiccup didn't even consider asking the questions. They still frothed around in his head, bubbling and boiling like liquid fire and begging to be asked. But he kept his lips sealed.

* * *

By sunset, Hiccup's eyes were heavy with fatigue and the hole in his shoulder was throbbing angrily. He fell more than dismounted from Night when they stopped and would've landed on his butt if he hadn't been gripping the reins with his left hand. Night whinnied gently and turned around, nosing him on the arm. Hiccup stroked his nose, lifting his aching right arm to wrap his finger in the stallion's mane.

"I'm here, bud. I'm okay." He murmured, wondering how much of a lie the latter statement was.

After a minute, Hiccup began to unbuckle the girth of Night's saddle. As he began to pull the saddle off with two sort-of-working arms, he saw Astrid disappear in-between two trees. A knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach as he considered whether or not she had abandoned him. He was about to go after her when he saw Storm standing near the edge of the clearing with her saddle lying next to her. Astrid probably would've left without her horse – would she?

She hadn't. Astrid returned a few minutes later with an armful of wood. Hiccup, who had managed to yank Night's saddle off in that time, went over to help her but she dropped it in the middle of the clearing before he had even taken a step.

"Consider this a favour." She said, walking over to her saddlebag and squatting down to open it. "I won't be doing this for you when your arm's healed."

Hiccup wanted to pretend that he hadn't expected her to, but he _had._ He was used to being waited on hand and foot by men and women alike – the prospect of completing a mundane task such as collecting firewood was alien.

"We could take it in turns." He suggested after a moment's pause. "I'll collect it tomorrow, you the day after and so on."

Astrid stood up, holding something that he recognised to be a tinderbox. She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Seems fair." The warrior nudged the pile of wood with her boot, worrying her bottom lip as she did so. "I don't even know if it's wise to start a fire."

"We're surrounded by thick trees." Hiccup reasoned. "I doubt anybody could see us for miles. We're not on the main path, anyway. I don't think we'll find any people until we come across one of the main paths. My uncle doesn't know where we're going and, if he did, he would have a hard time tracking us. We're as safe out here as we could ever be."

Astrid nodded. She squatted down by the fire and began to arrange it. Hiccup walked over to her and gingerly sat down just behind her, interested in seeing how a fire he was made. He had never seen it done before – the fires in the castle were always roaring when he returned from his daily business in the evening or, if out on a hunt, a servant made it and he hadn't cared enough to pay attention. Now, he realised that his might depend on the skill.

In hindsight, he realised how unprepared he was for the entire adventure. A boring day spent in the library a few years ago had granted him knowledge of edible plants but he wasn't up to sleeping rough or feeling hungry. He wouldn't last long without some kind of meat in his diet.

"Can you teach me to shoot?" he asked suddenly, not considering the implications of his question.

Astrid stopped what she was doing and turned around to look at him, smirking briefly before going back to her task.

"Thought you would know how as a prince." She barbed without looking up.

Hiccup flushed. "I was never very good at it."

"Then I guess you'll be relying on me to get food." Astrid assumed, audibly sighing. "To be honest, I'm not all that surprised."

Hiccup understood the implications of what she was saying. He frowned, opening his mouth to inform her of his extensive knowledge of edible plant life, but she cut him off.

"You couldn't, anyway." She said, opening the tinderbox and taking out the tools nestled inside. "Not with that shoulder. Maybe I'll teach you if – when – you get better."

Hiccup glowered at her silently for a while before sullenly muttering: "Thanks" and fixing his gaze on the pile of wood so that he wouldn't see Astrid's smirk. He watched her light the fire carefully, hoping that his naturally speedy learning would help him remember how to light a fire for the next night.

After a few minutes, the fire was eating away at the wood and bathing the small clearing in a warm glow. Hiccup watched the flames, mesmerised and unaware of what was going on around him.

"Take off your shirt."

Hiccup started. He turned his head and saw Astrid standing behind him holding a small roll of bandages.

"N – No, thanks." He muttered quickly, instinctively curling his fingers into the fabric. Without an arrow sticking out of his back, he didn't have the incentive to strip in front of a stranger.

Astrid rolled her eyes. "I wasn't _asking_."

Hiccup scowled at her but, slowly, painfully, did as she ordered. He shifted slightly so that his right side was warmed by the fire and his left was exposed to the cool air of the late evening. Astrid walked closer and kneeled down behind him. He was painfully aware of her every movement. When she placed a hand on his back, her palms cold and calloused, he shuddered. Now, he was embarrassed.

If Astrid noticed, she didn't say anything. Slowly, she unwrapped the soiled bandage and tossed it onto the fire. Hiccup watched the flames stutter for a second before they roared up again and consumed the bandage. There was a significant amount of blood on the burning material. Hiccup hoped that the wound wasn't too serious.

"How is it?"

"Well, it isn't bleeding much anymore – that's a start." Astrid said, pressing the end of the new bandage against the wound and eliciting a pained hiss from Hiccup. "Sorry, sorry. Do you know much about medicine?"

Hiccup bit his lip to stop himself from crying out and shook his head regretfully. "No. Do you know anything more than pulling out arrows?"

Astrid either ignored or didn't notice his jibe. "I know how to apply poultices, how to put a dislocated arm back in place and how to pull an arrow out – but I don't know a _thing_ about mixing those herbs that you have in your bag and I certainly don't know a thing about infection."

"Is it infected?" Hiccup asked, panic rising in his throat.

Astrid hesitated. "I… I don't know. It's inflamed and the surrounding skin's a bit red, but that could just be because you got shot with a flipping arrow." She sighed deeply. "I'm not going to be much help."

Hiccup sucked in a sharp breath. Panic swirled around in his gut and crept up his throat, threatening to choke him. After a moment, he smiled for his own benefit and said, "Well, just do the best you can."

Astrid's fingers tapped a strange rhythm on his back, which he owed to concentration or nerves. He often did the same thing when he was thinking.

"Do you know what's in the jars in your bag?"

"Probably, but I don't know a thing about using them."

The drumming of Astrid's fingers increased in intensity. "Then I'll just have to clean it, wrap it and hope that the swelling goes down."

Hiccup nodded. As she washed and bandaged, he watched the fire consume what was left of the bandage with glassy eyes. He was tugged back to reality by a sharp stab of pain when Astrid pulled the bandages tight and knotted the ends. She stood immediately and washed her hands in the nearby river, similarly to how she had done so last time. Hiccup stood carefully and put his shirt back on, rubbing his thumb along the soft fabric to calm himself. He hoped against hope that the wound wasn't infected.

* * *

 **A/N ~ **Hello, all.****

 **I'm going to try and keep this brief. If any of you checked my profile, you would know that I broke my laptop and I'm borrowing one in order to get this written. I'll still try to update on Sundays (because I've made myself a schedule for some stupid reason) but there won't be any guarantees.**

 **Yeah, this chapter was boring, but if you have anything constructive then I'd still like to hear it.**

 **As always, a big thank you to all of my favouriters, followers and reviewers! (Seriously, 10 favourites? 26 followers? 20 reviews? You guys are honestly so amazing.)**

 **I'll see you when I see you. ;)**


	5. Chapter Five - Soon

**Chapter Five: Soon**

Hiccup awoke from a nightmare with a heaving gasp. Purple fire, charred bodies and bloody swords – traces of his dream - danced across his closed eyes. When he gathered the courage to open them, Hiccup was surprised by what he saw. Instead of the green curtains of his four-poster bed, he was surrounded by looming oaks standing out like sentries in the blackened sky. The only source of light was a dying fire near his feet, which gave everything an unsettling shadow. In his sleepy state, he was unable to recall the events that had led him to this spot.

He looked around groggily, too tired to get up, and his eyes locked onto the first familiar sight: his horse. For a moment, Hiccup was comforted; then, he saw the grey horse tethered next to his stallion and, a moment later, the lumpy shape of another body wrapped in a blanket. It was far too small to be his father.

A flicker of fear at the unfamiliarity, greatly enhanced by the quickly fading nightmare rolling around in his mind, motivated Hiccup to try and sit up. He moved his right arm (his left was pinned underneath his body) in an attempt to push himself up. The moment he did, his entire back seemed to set alight with agony. Unable to surprises a groan, Hiccup slumped back down on his blankets. He watched through tear-filled eyes and the mass of fabric nearby moved around. One arm threw away the blanket while the right one reached out automatically and grasped the handle of a deadly-looking axe that lay close by. The person sat up, a messy braid rippling down their back like a waterfall.

Astrid.

Her face, combined with the growing pain in his back, made the memories of the day and night before come rushing back. Meeting her. Being shot. Encountering the Night Fury. Travelling through the forest.

His father's death.

Fresh tears sprung to his eyes, not all of them caused by his pain.

"Prince Hiccup?" Astrid asked, her voice alert and sharp despite the exhaustion that hung underneath her eyes. She looked around for any immediate danger and, after seeing none, turned her azure eyes on him.

"Nothing…" Hiccup managed through his pain and tears. "Nothing's wrong. Go back to sleep."

Astrid put her axe down, nodding. She relaxed visibly but didn't lie down again. Instead, she continued to watch him carefully with narrowed eyes. Hiccup squirmed under her scrutiny.

"Nightmare?" she asked after a while, surprisingly gently.

After a moment, Hiccup nodded grudgingly. Instead of laughing, like he expected, her tired frown softened slightly.

"I get them too." She said suddenly, surprising him. "They won't be so bad after a while."

After getting over his initial astonishment, Hiccup nodded, grateful for her reassurance but still embarrassed. He wondered why she had nightmares. What had happened to her that was enough to make her afraid? Other half-baked questions drifted through his mind, but he refrained from asking them.

Astrid sent him a small smile and snuggled back down beneath her blankets, disappearing entirely beneath the fabric. For some reason, the way she burrowed down looked rather sweet. Hiccup found himself smiling tiredly.

Although his back still throbbed, Hiccup eventually decided to go back to sleep. With Astrid unable to make conversation, the summer night cold and his mind whirling with unpleasant memories, there was nothing to be gained in staying awake. Wincing slightly, he lay back down on his makeshift bed.

Moments before he drifted off to sleep, (long after Astrid had done so herself) he thought he saw a pair of feral green eyes peering at him through the undergrowth. Before he could wake himself enough to investigate, the eyes vanished and he fully lost consciousness.

When he woke up the next morning, although he remembered his conversation with Astrid, he was sure that the eyes were nothing more than part of his nightmare.

* * *

It was dawn Hiccup awoke properly. Pained, exhausted and not wanting to get up, he watched the glowing embers of the dying fire at his feet flicker gently in the sunrise. It was impossible not to recall the charred bodies of his uncle's men, reduced to nothing by the Night Fury's will, as he watched the heat consume what was left of the wood. Especially after his nightmare.

To his left, he heard the rustling of fabric that notified him of Astrid's consciousness. He sat up carefully, ignoring the resulting wave of pain, and surveyed the clearing around them for any signs of disturbance or change. There was none – the horses were still tethered side by side to a tree, their saddlebags were undisturbed and there were no signs of any life nearby besides their own.

Hiccup looked over at Astrid, who was already sitting on top of her blanket and pulling on her boots. She nodded formally at him and stood, brushing the wrinkles out of her clothes. He nodded back and did the same, looking down with disgust at his wrinkled and dirty tunic and trousers. Neither of them had washed the night before and had both slept in their day clothes. As a result, Hiccup felt like his entire body was caked in a layer of grime. If he were at home, he would probably be taking a hot bath in a few hours to prepare him for the day.

Resigning himself to a few weeks of filth and discomfort, (his back wasn't the only thing that ached after he had spent a night sleeping stomach-down on the ground) Hiccup bent down carefully and rolled up his sleeping bag. He made his way around the coughing fire over to Night, who nickered gently and reached his head around so that Hiccup could rub his nose. Smiling fondly, Hiccup gave him a brief stroke before stowing away his bedroll and retrieving something for breakfast. (He decided to finish the pie. It was going stale.)

"We still going by the river?" Astrid asked, closing her saddlebag from where she stood next to her horse.

Hiccup nodded, not up to speaking so early in the morning after waking up in the night.

"Do you want me to check your back?"

Despite the constant throbbing of his wound and the anxiety over a possible (probable) infection knotting his stomach, Hiccup shook his head. In this case, embarrassment won over sense.

Astrid opened her mouth to protest before apparently thinking better of it. She shrugged, as if to say "Suit yourself" and lead Storm over the river to drink. Hiccup untied Night and did the same.

Within a half hour, the horses were fed (which proved to be difficult, as the only thing that Hiccup had to hold Night's food was his hands) and saddled. Hiccup mounted carefully while Astrid drank the rest of her water, filled the bottle from the river and used it to douse the fire. He watched, bemused, as she kicked the embers into the undergrowth and rubbed what was left of the ashes into the soil with her toe.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked, his voice dry and rasping. He blamed it on how early it was to be rising.

"So that…" Astrid stopped speaking momentarily as she mounted and gathered her reins. "If anybody does happen across this place, they'll have no idea that we were here."

It was a good idea. Hiccup mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it.

Without another word, Astrid turned Storm towards a gap in the treeline and urged her into a trot. Hiccup followed suit, refusing to acknowledge how dizzy he felt or how much his back pained him.

He was fine. There was no infection. He was fine.

They rode throughout the day in silence and without disturbance, stopping at sporadic intervals as they had done the day before. Despite the silence of the surrounding forest, Hiccup knew by checking his map that they were nearing one of the forest's many public paths. They could go around it, but it would be quicker to pass through and hope that they weren't noticed by any of his uncle's sympathisers. Or, even worse, one of his uncle's men.

He relayed all of this to Astrid, deciding that it would be best to keep her in the loop. She didn't voice any objections, although he could tell by her pursed lips that she was worried. He was too, but he didn't let it show.

When it became too dark to navigate the horses properly, the pair stopped in a small clearing similar to the last. Hiccup slid down from Night, ignoring the resulting bouts of dizziness and pain, and immediately left the clearing to look for firewood. Bending down to gather dry sticks and small logs brought tears of pain to Hiccup's eyes but he blinked them away, determined not to fall prey to weakness. After gathering a sizeable bundle, he brought the wood back to the clearing and set about arranging it similarly to how Astrid had done the night before. When he was finished, he took the tinderbox from Astrid and lit it surprisingly easily.

"You're a natural." Astrid commented from where she stood next to Storm, sounding mildly impressed.

"Thanks." Hiccup replied, barely hearing her. He was distracted by the beads of sweat that had appeared on his forehead the second the fire had sprung to life, despite how cold he felt and the thin clothing that he was wearing.

Signs of fever.

They ate dinner in silence before the fire, both finishing and laying out their bedrolls at the same time. Hiccup lay on his stomach like he had done the night before, watching the fire that he had created proudly until he fell asleep. Despite his nightmares, a slight headache and the pain in his back, he slept throughout the night.

* * *

When Hiccup awoke the next morning, he was hit by a wave of nausea unlike the minor sickness that he had experienced the day before. He choked it down, ignoring the pain in his back, and set out as he had the morning before. Despite the fact that his pain had increased in tenfold, he refused Astrid's offer to check his back once again.

He was fine.

Bouts of dizziness, nausea and a constant headache hounded Hiccup throughout the day. With each thud of Night's hooves, he had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself from being sick. Every time he dismounted, he had to hold onto Night's reins so that he would not fall. Every moment of weakness was filled with the fear that Astrid would turn and see how much he was struggling. How pathetic he was.

In normal circumstances, Hiccup occupy his thoughts by deciding the best was to pass across the public path unseen. Now, his thoughts were only filled with equal amounts of self-pity and self-loathing.

When he dismounted that evening, Hiccup's legs could barely hold him up. He stood still for a moment, grasping onto Night's reins, his knees buckling, burying his face in the stallion's neck and inhaling his familiar scent in an attempt to keep his sickness at bay. After a minute, he managed to stand alone.

"You alright?" Astrid asked, pausing in the consumption of her dinner to look up at him. Hiccup looked away, not wanting her to think of him as even weaker than she probably already did.

"I'm fine." He replied, immediately wishing that he hadn't. His voice was strained and raspy.

"You don't look so good."

"I said I was fine." He snapped. After a moment, he sighed, soothing his temper. "I think it's food poisoning. My food is going stale."

Astrid muttered something under her breath that sounded rather like "bullshit". Hiccup frowned, opening his mouth to snap at her before quickly closing it again lest he was sick. Astrid left to gather firewood before he could settle his insides enough to retort. When she returned and began to light the wood that she had collected, he couldn't muster the energy or see the point in starting an argument.

When it was roaring at full force, Hiccup laid out his bedroll before the fire. He was shivering, which he just attributed to the breeze. However, he could not explain away the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, drawing the wind to his hot-yet-cold skin.

Before he could crawl into his makeshift bed, Astrid sat down on it. Her smug expression infuriated him. He tugged on his blankets listlessly, feeling his frustration rise. Then, he noticed the roll of bandages that she was twirling around in her fingers.

"I'm fine, Astrid." He said, not really believing it himself.

Astrid snorted.

"Really!" Hiccup snapped. He was broken off by a small fit of coughing. "I'm fine."

"Even if you're fine – which you're clearly not – I need to change your bandage. Take off your shit."

"No."

"Take it off!"

"No!"

"Take it off, or I'll use your knife and cut it off myself."

Swearing under his breath (but loudly enough that Astrid could hear it) he grasped the bottom of his shirt with his left hand and wriggled it off, pressing the fabric to his chest once it was removed in an attempt to give himself a measure of privacy.

Still smirking smugly, Astrid walked around his back and kneeled behind him, immediately beginning to work at the bandage. After a minute of fiddling, Hiccup felt the cloth fall away. His hiss of pain at the exposure of his wound was drowned out by the loud exclamation of "Shit!" that spilled out of Astrid's mouth.

"What? What is it?" Hiccup demanded, trying not to tense so that he wouldn't stretch the skin around his wound.

Astrid didn't reply. Instead, she ran over to her saddlebag, retrieved her water bottle and began to pour the contents over Hiccup's back, thoroughly soaking his trousers. All the while, a constant stream of swearwords spilled out of her mouth.

"What is it, Astrid? Tell me what's wrong!"

"Oh gods, this is not happening, please say this isn't happening…"

"Astrid?"

Still ignoring him, Astrid wrapped a fresh bandage around Hiccup's back and tied it tightly enough to induce tears. Then, swearing under her breath, she walked around him and sat on his bed, gnawing at her bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed.

"Astrid!"

She looked up, startled, as if she was noticing him for the first time. Then, spitting away a glob of blood and spittle, she said two sentences that made his blood run cold.

"We need to get you to a healer. Soon."

* * *

 **A/N ~ What's that, you say? Proper pacing? Never heard of that.**

 **Hello, all.**

 **Sorry about the quality of the chapter and later-than-I-originally-planned update. I've been occupied with Inktober and honestly, I've bitten off more than I can chew by publishing this. So, this was bad, but we'll be out of the forest soon, so yay!**

 **Confession time: Up until now, I've been writing based off of a very basic plan residing in my head and a less-than-good first draft. If you think this story's pacing is bad, you should read that!**

 **So I'm going to have to properly plan this out. Scene by scene. Event by event. Chapter by chapter.**

 **I hate planning.**

 **But you can see why I need it. The start of this chapter really should have been the end of the last.**

 **As always, I'd like to know what you thought! Anything and everything that you guys leave for me is appreciated beyond possible measure.**

 **I'll see you when I see you ;)**


	6. Chapter Six - Sure

**Chapter Six: Sure**

Astrid was already digging around in his saddlebag for the map before Hiccup had even fully processed what she was saying. It was only when she shoved it into his hands, eventually letting it fall onto his lap when he didn't take it, that he finally snapped out of his revive.

"There's no point, Astrid. I'm fine." He began, having to pause to swallow a surge of nausea. "Besides, we can't risk it."

"Fine my ass." Astrid muttered, pressing the map into his hands until he finally took it. "You're back's clearly infected and, at the rate you're going, you'll be dead in a couple of weeks if we don't get you to somebody who knows how to use the stuff in your bag. It's better to take you somewhere to be healed and risk being caught by your uncle, which I won't let happen, than letting you drop dead when we're halfway to those Ingreman people because of how stubborn you are!"

Hiccup held the map but didn't open it. "I'm not being stubborn, I'm being practical. I'm fine – there's no point in making ourselves vulnerable to my uncle just because you're getting fussed over nothing."

Astrid laughed cruelly. "Fussed over nothing? How about I kick you in the back? How will that feel? Will you be able to tell me that you're fine and that I'm "fussing over nothing" then?"

Hiccup scowled at her, instinctively shuffling away from her and her threats, even though he hated himself for being such a coward.

Astrid's expression softened somewhat, although traces of her scowl still remained. "We're making ourselves venerable to your uncle by leaving you in this state." She said, slightly gentler. "It's better than he comes across us in a village or a public road than in the middle of a forest when you're half dead and unable to defend yourself."

"Well, I won't need to defend myself, seeing as you're being paid to do it for me." Hiccup quipped, doing his best to add some humour to the situation.

He clearly failed, because Astrid's scowl deepened again. "Gods, you are so selfish." She muttered, turning her back on him and walking over to her mare.

Of course, she would only be thinking about her money.

Maybe it was because she was right, maybe it was because she was wrong, but her remark made Hiccup finally open the map. It took a while for his eyes to adjust – when they did, he concluded that the nearest village was Jorvik, which the public road ran right through and the river Jor passed right by. The fact that it was on the road made it venerable but, from what he knew of it, it was far enough into the forest that people probably wouldn't recognise him or know of his father's death and public enough that there would probably be a well-versed healer at hand.

"The village of Jorvik is about a day and a half's ride from here." Hiccup relayed to Astrid, determinedly looking into her eyes to show that he wasn't a coward.

Astrid glanced at him before turning back to her horse. "Good." She opened her saddlebag and pulled out her bedroll. "Try not to die in your sleep."

Hiccup scowled at her, his anger mixing uncomfortably with the nausea in his stomach. Legs shaking, he stood and retrieved his bedroll from his saddlebag, laying it before the fire and doing his best to ignore the resulting shiver and flush of heat.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of soulful green eyes and bloody bandages.

* * *

The dizziness that hounded Hiccup the next morning (combined with the throbbing of his back, swirling nausea and a constant headache) meant that the sun was long past risen by the time that they were ready to leave. His movements were slow to avoid inciting anything, meaning that he got half as much done in twice the time. His slowness clearly frustrated Astrid, who he saw nibbling at her lip as she waited for him, but she didn't say anything.

When he was finally ready, Hiccup found himself unable to mount Night. He kept misjudging the distance between the two of them and finding his foot falling through the air instead of hitching in the stirrup. Hanging onto the poor horse's mane and reins was the only thing that prevented him from falling to the ground.

And so it was that the Prince of Berk: inventor, swordsman and artist, was reduced to a fumbling child.

Suddenly, Astrid was stood beside him, holding Night's head, gently pushing the horse closer to him and holding out the stirrup so that he could put his foot in it. Hiccup managed easier this time, finally swinging his leg over the saddle and succeeding in sitting upright.

After yesterday, after she had threatened to kick his wounded back, she was helping him? She couldn't seem to decide whether she hated him or not.

"You were taking forever." She supplied, pointedly not looking at him.

Definitely hate, he decided.

Astrid rode out of the gap in the woods first, remaining at a walk instead of quickly speeding into a canter as she had done so every day prior. When Hiccup urged Night into a trot as he tried to pass her, the resulting jabs of pain from his back and the increase in intensity of his headache forced him to slow again. When he glanced over at Astrid, expecting to see her smug expression from the night before, she only seemed worried. It was almost like he was confirming her worst suspicions.

When midday arrived and they stopped the horses, Hiccup opted to stay mounted instead of getting down from his horse like Astrid had done. As much as he hated forcing Night to bear his weight, especially when he was so slumped in the saddle, he couldn't deny the possbility that he might not be able to mount again. Understanding how thirsty the stallion was, he led him over to the river and stroked his neck gently while the horse quenched his thirst.

After a few minutes, Hiccup rode Night away from the river and stopped him next to Storm. He had learned a couple of days prior that Astrid's mare had a pleasant effect on his horse, as he always seemed to forget his exhaustion when he was around her. Hiccup had learned to use this in his favour.

Astrid ate her lunch quickly, her axe resting over her lap as she did. She glanced back at him when he stopped just beside her but didn't look back again after that. Her lack of attention towards him gave Hiccup the chance to rest himself on Night's neck and shut his eyes for a moment.

After Astrid had filled her bottle from the river, they were riding again. (They had drank every last drop that was in their bottles by the third day and were forced to fill them from the filthy river.)

Hiccup was so nauseous that he didn't realise he hadn't eaten.

* * *

Two hours after "lunch", Hiccup saw Astrid frown and tense her hands around Storm's reins. After a moment, she drew her horse to a halt and gestured for him to do the same. Hiccup pulled feebly on Night's reins but was saved the effort when the stallion stopped beside Storm and began to nudge her with his nose affectionately.

"I can hear horses."

"The path?" Hiccup guessed, his voice croaky.

"Hopefully." She replied, instinctively thumbing the handle of her axe. "Do you have a hooded jacket?"

Hiccup went to nod, realised that it was a bad idea and supplied a raspy "Yeah." instead.

"Put it on and pull the hood up. We're far away from the castle, but if it is the path, the people on it may recognise you from paintings and the like."

"You didn't." Hiccup replied, his instinctive humour surfacing for the first time in days.

"I did. I was just checking. I could tell it was you just by listening to your voice. You're widely known around us common folk for being nasally." *****

Hiccup opened his mouth, offended, before he saw the humorous smile on her face and realised that she was joking. He found his lips curling to mimic the shape of hers.

Remembering his need for a hood, Hiccup turned around in the saddle, wincing and battling back a wave of sickness. He rifled around in one of the bags until he was able to pull out the jacket with a hood that he had packed and slip left arm into it. Then, after a minute of struggle and embarrassment, he managed to shove his right arm through and clumsily tug the hood up. The resulting wave of dizziness forced him to slump against Night's neck for a moment.

Astrid hadn't noticed a thing; she had detached her bow from her saddle and was busying herself stringing it, sticking her tongue out between her teeth in concentration. Hiccup had, surprisingly, finished his task first, so he watched her work in an attempt to forget his nausea.

After a minute, Astrid attached her strung bow to the saddle and urged Storm forward with her heels. Hiccup did the same, and they followed the river towards the growing noises of human activity.

Five minutes later, the density of trees surrounding them began to lessen. Hiccup could see Astrid visibly tense with each step that the horses took. He was nervous himself, but his nausea and headache occupied the majority of his thoughts. Eventually, they saw a large dirt path ahead of them and, after a second, a man mounted on a heavily laden horse pass along it in sight of their gap in the trees.

"Let me go first." Astrid suggested, her voice barely more than a murmur.

Hiccup didn't do anything to stop her, although part of him wondered what was more suspicious to a passer-by: a skinny, pale man wearing a hood or a beautiful, blonde haired woman armed with an axe and bow. He decided the latter

Astrid paused Storm just before the last of the trees and, after a second, urged her forward so that she was standing just on the path. After a second of looking around wildly, she turned her head back to Hiccup and nodded quickly.

Almost rolling his eyes at how overly cautious she was being, Hiccup pressed his heels against Night's sides and drew him up next to Storm.

The path was nothing special. It was just a wide bit of dirt. It met with the river a few paces to their left and turned right, following the body of water in the same way that they had before. The only difference was the amount of people. For the last six days, he only had a quiet (and rather surly) woman for company, who was only putting up with him for the reward that would follow. Now, although they didn't pay any attention to him, he could see at least ten people on the path.

"None of them seem to be very threatening." Astrid commented, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sure you could kick their asses either way." Hiccup murmured. He was currently being attacked by a wave of heat flushes owing to the extra layer that he was now wearing and wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying.

Astrid smiled briefly, he was sure of it, but her indifferent mask soon returned.

"We should get going. At the pace we're going, we're going to have to hurry if we want to get to a healer in time." She said, not unkindly.

Hiccup swallowed a mouthful of bile and urged Night into a walk again, not trusting his stomach to allow him to reply.

* * *

They rode throughout the rest of the day, until the moon was high in the sky and the night was far from young. It was only then, when Hiccup was nearly falling out of the saddle from fatigue, that Astrid finally decided to stop. She dismounted easily from her horse and walked over to him, stroking Night's mane to make him aware of her presence.

A moment of silence hung between them.

"Need a little help?" she asked eventually, finally looking up at him. Hiccup considered her face and realised that there wasn't a hint of jibing in her expression. She was being completely genuine.

"Just… don't let me fall, please." He requested, hating himself for needing her help.

Astrid nodded. She stood back and watched him swing his leg over the saddle, keeping her eyes firmly fixated on his face until she saw him wince, which was when she looked away out of consideration for him. When his feet hit the ground, she slipped her hands underneath his arms like she had done on the first night and held him up until he could stand on his own.

"I'll get the fire tonight – you can do it enough to catch up when you're better." She said, vanishing into the woods.

"Thank you." Hiccup said to her retreating back.

Why was she being so kind now? Was it because she felt sorry for him?

Somehow, Hiccup managed to pull Night's saddle off and, after doing so, lead the exhausted stallion to drink by the river. Astrid returned minutes later and began to build the fire. As she did, Hiccup tied Night next to Storm by a tree and retrieved his bedroll from his saddlebag. He unrolled it by the bundle of twigs that Astrid was arranging, crawling into it with difficulty and managing to eat a strip of dried meat while he watched the small fire roar to life.

When Astrid was finished, she retrieved her own bedroll and set it out a few paces away from his. Instead of climbing in it, she sat upon the fabric and removed her axe from the sling, settling the weapon across her lap.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Hiccup asked.

"Not tonight. Not while there are people around. It would be pretty annoying if somebody killed you or me while we both slept."

Hiccup considered this. "Wake me in a few hours, please, so that you can sleep. I'll watch for a bit."

"Sure, Hiccup." Astrid replied, smiling in an amused way.

Hiccup tried to insist, but he found his eyelids drooping before he did.

He didn't even realise that she had called him by his name only.

* * *

 **A/N ~**

 ***I used this "joke" in what I think was a draft. If I'm wrong and you recognise it, please let me know so I can change it and save myself the embarrassment!**

 **Also, this is my least favourite chapter so far, but oh well, it's out on the internet for hundreds to read now.**


	7. Chapter Seven - Arrival

**Chapter 7: Arrival**

The reason that Hiccup came to the next morning was not due to Astrid waking him to keep watch; instead, it was the golden dawn seeping through his eyelids and distant chirping of birds that finally drew him from his fitful slumber.

When he opened his eyes, the entire world had a fuzzy edge to it and he had to blink several times to force it to vanish. His eyes immediately locked onto Astrid as she walked towards him, the droplets of river water that lingered after she had washed her face causing her skin to glow. Her golden braid, even though it was matted and in need of a wash, glowed faintly in the sunrise.

When he was finally able to breathe enough to speak, Hiccup's voice was strained and barely louder than a whisper. "You were supposed to wake me." He accused, trying to sound disgruntled, but it came out as more of a whine. From where he lay, he could see the dark circles underneath her eyes.

"You didn't actually think I would, did you?" She replied, untying Storm so that she could drink from the river.

He didn't, but he wasn't going to give up that easily. "You're exhausted! How are you going to manage through the day without sleeping?"

"Believe me, Hiccup." She said, picking up her bedroll and shoving it inside her pack. "I've had my fair share of sleepless nights. You should be worrying about yourself."

Hiccup went to protest, but the surge of nausea that forced him to keep his mouth shut spoke volumes.

* * *

After an hour of being what he thought was being embarrassingly pathetic, Hiccup found himself sat upon Night with Astrid's help. After checking for any signs of danger as they had done so the day before, the pair walked the horses out of the copse that they had spent the night within and started back on the path. Hiccup, plagued by the heat flushes that wearing his hood brought upon him, slumped over Night's neck without even bothering to steer him. The stallion was perfectly content to follow Storm.

The dawn dragged on to early morning. Hiccup battled with fatigue and struggled to keep his eyes open. Though their pace was nothing more than a steady walk, every thud of Night's hooves made the wound in his back scream in protest. Even the reoccurring agony failed to keep him awake. Twice during the early hours of the morning, he briefly lost consciousness and nearly fell to the distant ground.

Astrid seemingly noticed his discomfort, for she rode Storm closer to him and gently murmured: "We'll be arriving at the village today. Hang on, Hiccup."

Hiccup nodded slowly, not really listening. Although he did his best to keep awake, he found himself beginning to wonder why. Why was he bothering? What was the point? For a kingdom he didn't know if he was worthy to rule? For a horse, or a woman that only cared for the money that he was bringing her? For a father that had passed into the realm of the dead?

There was no point, he decided. So why bother? Why stay awake? He just wanted to sleep…

And suddenly, he was slipping sideways, falling, falling, falling…

And his right arm was hitting the ground – his injured arm – and wave upon wave of agony was beating him into the ground, pummelling against the walls of his mind, bringing hot tears to his eyes, causing his ears to ring and the scent of dirt to fill his nostrils. Faintly, as if she was submerged in water once again, he heard Astrid cry out his name and the thump of her boots as she dismounted. After a moment, he felt the pressure of her hand on his shoulder.

"Hiccup? Can you hear me?"

Another voice, male and even more distant, called from somewhere behind them. "You alright, lad?"

"He's fine." He heard Astrid snap. "Please leave us be."

"Watch your tone, lass." The man growled. Hiccup heard footsteps echo away and felt the hand that Astrid had placed on his left shoulder relax a little.

"Lie still for a moment, Hiccup." Astrid whispered urgently. "This will only take a second."

What choice did he have? Hiccup watched the dirt darken where his tears dripped into it and listened to Astrid's footsteps echo away. Through the ringing of his ears, he heard the horses shuffle nervously and a grunt of effort from Astrid. Moment later, she returned.

"You have to sit up, Hiccup. You have to."

Even though Hiccup wanted to yell and scream at her that _he couldn't_ and that _he'd had enough_ , he somehow managed to sit up and choke down the sob and vomit that rose in his throat. Then, Astrid lifted him to his feet once again and walked him over to the horses. Instead of helping him to mount Night, she led him over to Storm.

"I'm going to have to give you a leg up, okay? I can't lift you."

Hiccup nodded. Blinking away tears and supressing a groan, he managed to slip his foot into the stirrup and use his left arm to pull himself into the saddle. As he did, he felt something in his shoulder tear – skin, muscle, he didn't know – and was unable to stop the scream of agony that burst from his lips. He managed to get himself into the saddle despite the fresh wave of blood that he felt trickling down his arm.

Below him, Storm shuffled nervously due to his unfamiliar weight. The mare was smaller and significantly less wide than Night. Hiccup didn't feel safe on her back. However, when Astrid began to gently stroke her muzzle, she calmed down. When the mare had stopped moving, Astrid walked around her head until she was stood by Hiccup's left leg. At first, when she grabbed his leg and began to wrap something around his calf, he wondered what in Gods name that she was doing. Then, he remembered the leather straps attached to her saddle.

As mixed up as his opinion on Astrid was, he had to give credit where credit was due: it was a very smart idea.

When she was finished, Astrid walked over to Night (who had been standing patiently the entire time) and looped his reins over his head. Something seemed different about the horse, but Hiccup couldn't quite put his finger on it for a minute. Then, he realised that his stallion was now carrying five saddlebags instead of four, a quiver and a bow.

After grabbing Storm's reins as well as Night's, Astrid began to lead both horses along the path. Hiccup watched her between Storm's ears, frowning.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a hoarse voice, fatigue clouding his usually sharp mind and making the answer to his question unclear.

"Getting you to Jorvik." Astrid replied, her voice almost as tired as his own.

* * *

With their speed significantly decreased, it felt like a millennia had passed when they saw the first sign pointing towards Jorvik. Hiccup saw Astrid's slumped shoulders rise at the sight of the simple block of wood pointing them in the direction of their destination. Even though he felt a flicker of hope, it was quickly drowned out by the endless waves of agony that struck him with every thud of Storm's hooves.

If he died, Hiccup decided, it wouldn't matter. Spitelout would be king, if he was not already. If he was an unfair ruler, the people would usurp him. Maybe Snotlout would be king. Despite being witless, foolish and cowardly, he had grown up in a similar environment to Hiccup, even if he was not privy to his how-to-be-a-king lessons. Maybe he would be able to keep the people of Berk safe.

Besides, if he died, he would see his father again.

Hiccup found himself slipping unconscious and, although he tried to convince himself otherwise, he wasn't sure if he'd wake up.

"Astrid…" he mumbled.

"Yeah, Hiccup?" Astrid asked, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

"If I die…"

"You're not going to die, Hiccup." Astrid said, cutting across him. "I'm not walking for half the day just so that I can bring a dead body to Jorvik."

"Let me finish, please." Hiccup requested weakly. When Astrid didn't interrupt again, he continued. "If I die, I'm sorry that you don't get your money. You can have the contents of my saddlebags, my sword, anything that you want for your troubles." He coughed up something and had to stop speaking so that his stomach would settle. "And, if you want to sell Night, make sure that it's to a person that wouldn't just chop him up for dog meat and leave his entrails to the dragons. Promise?"

"Sure, Hiccup." Astrid said tiredly. This time, however, he could tell that she meant it.

"Thank you." He murmured.

The speech had sapped every ounce of his remaining energy. Even though he tried to force them open, his eyelids began to slip shut and his rapid breathing began to slow. Even though he fought for consciousness, he could feel himself slipping away… where, he didn't know.

"Oh, Thor!" he heard Astrid shout when she realised what was happening. He felt Storm shake beneath him as she began to canter, leading him to believe that Astrid had started running. His ears filled with an angry buzzing, like thousands of bees were burrowing inside his ear canal. Through the noise that only existed in his mind, he heard Astrid shouting. She was yelling things like: "Get out of the way!" and "Move!" and "He's dying, you twat!" but even she seemed to be slipping away.

For a few minutes, the world seemed to rock as Storm cantered after Astrid. Gradually, the amount of people around them grew – he could hear the combination of their voices – but every sound they made seemed dulled. Groaning, he managed to shift his head up. Before his consciousness faded, his eyes captured onto an image of beauty: Astrid's golden braid. And, just beyond her fair head, the first few houses of a village.

With nothing more than a gentle exhale, Hiccup's mind faded into nothing…

OoOoO

Even though her legs were burning and her eyes were heavy, Astrid Hofferson ran. Dust from the road clouded her vision and dried her sore throat, but her pace did not falter. She kept her eyes pinned on the world ahead and yelled at anybody in her way until they got out of it. Behind her, riding on her own horse, Hiccup was fading fast, taking her reward with him.

Reward, Astrid told herself. It was the money that was slipping away, not the life of a lanky, freckly, struggling, breathing, living, caring Viking. No. Just money. Just money.

Even though she didn't want to admit it, Astrid knew that she could've – should've - done better. She should've checked his wound every time they stopped, kept a better eye on him, paid more attention when her mother had taught her about medicine…

She should've killed that last archer.

Astrid resented him for the pain that he was going through, even though it wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault that he had been shot – it was hers, even though she could tell that the idea of passing the blame to her had never crossed his mind. It wasn't his fault that he was dependent – he had grown up, safe and shielded, in a castle, after all – but she still resented having to care for him, despite it being in her contract. If she hadn't wanted the job, she shouldn't have taken it, so she had no right to be cross.

If only he was some priggish, egotistical prat. That way, it would be easy to take out her anger on him for no reason at all. Of course, he had to be nice. Of course, he had to make her feel guilty for taking out her rage on him just by being himself.

She should have been kinder to him. Even though she had occasionally allowed her gentler side to show through, her attitude had mostly been an open portrayal of her deepest resentments. If she had been shot, Astrid doubted that she could've handled it as well as he. And when she went through the things that he was currently going through, she had craved for somebody to help her through it. Maybe that was why she had been unkind – she hadn't wanted to give him what she never had.

That was just an excuse, and she knew it.

These thoughts and more crossed her mind as she ran, but mostly she thought of how tired she was, how far away Jorvik still was, how tired Storm probably was, how dry her throat was and how cracked her lips were. It was selfish to think of herself while Hiccup was dying upon her horse, but she hadn't thought of anybody except herself and Storm for years.

After what felt like forever, Astrid turned around a left bend and saw a large group of houses resting atop a hill. A line of people were trekking up the slope, providing an obstacle that she wasn't prepared to face. Sucking in a heavy breath and gathering the last of her strength, she pelted up the slope, all but shoving people out of her way. The horses cantered wearily behind her, sharing in her exhaustion.

After another forever, they reached the top of the hill. Astrid immediately dropped the reins, ignoring the stares of the dozens of people surrounding her, and ran to Hiccup. He looked awful: his skin was pale, his face covered in a sheen of sweat and his breathing shallow. To her horror, she saw a stream of blood trickling out from his right sleeve and onto Storm's flank. She shook his leg, almost saying his name but thinking better of it. He didn't respond. Panic, threatening to choke her, rose in her throat.

"Healer!" she yelled, turning to the people surrounding her. "I need a healer! Somebody take me to the healer!" her gaze locked onto a woman emerging from one of the houses. "Take me to your healer, now! He's dying!"

After an agonising second, the woman seemed to gather her wits. "This way if you want to save your friend."

"Cousin." She corrected immediately, hoping to immediately banish people's suspicions. Nodding, the woman began to jog along the street. Astrid followed immediately, pulling the horses along and trying to quell the dread that had arisen now that she was trusting a complete stranger with Hiccup's life.

The woman led them through a small alley and along another street until they were lost inside the village. Even though his face was hidden by his hood and his slumped shape was unrecognisable, Astrid was sure that somebody would recognise him. Her hands itched to hold her axe, but she managed to her grip on Storm and Night's reins.

Finally, they reached a small house - it was more of a hut - which the woman banged her fist on. Moments later, a wizened old woman emerged, her gnarled hands clutching a wooden staff. Her eyes locked on Hiccup.

"This boy is sick, Gothi!" the woman informed her. "Can you help?"

The woman nodded, frowning up at Hiccup. His face was dripping with sweat, his skin a ghostly pale, and the blood dripping out of his sleeve was turning into a steady stream.

"Please." Astrid found herself whispering. "Save him."

* * *

 **A/N ~ Do you need Astrid's POV? Probably not. Are you getting it? Yes.**

 **Hello, all.**

 **Keeping it brief, I just want to say that updates for this story will probably be a lot more sporadic. I want to work on original stories and I'm not very interested in writing for How To Train Your Dragon at the moment. Right now, I'm really hyped about Miraculous Ladybug. However, I'm finally somewhere that I want to be with the story, so hopefully that'll inspire me to write more.**

 **Thanks for reading and, as always, I'd love to hear something constructive! Every review makes me smile.**

 **I'll see you when I see you ;)**


	8. Chapter Eight - Healer

**Chapter Eight: Healer**

The old woman, Gothi, pointed her fingers at Hiccup and snapped them twice, pointing at the ground.

"She wants you to get him off the horse." The brunette woman who had brought Astrid to the healer relayed, as if it weren't obvious.

Masking her irritation, Astrid nodded, nibbling her lip with trepidation. She doubted that she could lift Hiccup, who was at least a head taller than her, at her full strength despite how much she possessed. The fact that she had missed out on a night of sleep convinced her that it would be impossible. Nonetheless, she unbuckled the straps around his legs and walked around to his left side.

"I need you to lift his leg over the saddle." She said to the brown-haired woman.

Nodding, the woman did as she asked. Astrid caught Hiccup as he slipped out of the saddle, stumbling underneath his limp weight. When she caught him, his back brushed against her, leaving a smudge of red on her shirt despite the multiple layers of fabric between her and his wound. Resting Hiccup's limp body on her right arm, Astrid looped her left underneath his legs. With an agonised grunt, she heaved him off the ground bridal style. Every weary muscle in her body screamed in protest, but she just gritted her teeth and hoisted him into a more secure position.

Something hot dripped onto her leg. Astrid looked down to see her leggings were darkened by Hiccup's blood. Due to the way she was holding him, with his back drooping and his arms flopping down, his wound was probably being stretched open even further. She was likely doing him serious damage, but it was the only way to prevent him from falling into the dirt.

Whipping her head up like a frightened animal, Astrid ran towards Gothi. The old woman pushed open the door of her hut with a gnarled fingertip. Too distracted to worry about the possible consequences of putting her trust in a complete stranger, Astrid ducked underneath the door.

The interior of Gothi's hut was full of clutter. Herbs, bounded by rope and hair, hung from the walls; something in a pot bubbled above the hearth, which was built into the wall; cupboards and drawers stood on either side of the fire pit; two small doors led out of the room into bedrooms; a large table stood in the centre of the room, the only other furniture being a rickety old chair by the door. Astrid barely noticed any of these things. With a groan of effort, she lifted Hiccup higher and rested him, left side down, on the table. Then, turning his face so his nose wouldn't be squashed, she rolled him onto his stomach.

Gothi tottered in moments after her. Contrary to Astrid's expectations, the old woman quickly felt for Hiccup's pulse before tottering hurriedly over to the fireplace, yanking the pot filled with a thick broth off the heat, filling a new one with water and setting it over the flame. Then, reaching to the tips of her toes, she began to yank bundles of dried herbs from the walls and toss various amounts into the pot along with substances retrieved from her rickety old cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Astrid demanded, aware of Hiccup deteriorating on the table. "Making soup? He's dying! What kind of healer are you?"

Gothi whipped around, her face wrinkling around her frown. With a strength that made Astrid stumble, she whacked her around the head with her staff at the speed of a striking Terrible Terror and turned back to the pot.

Dumbfounded, Astrid rubbed her temple as she watched the old woman grind up a flower with navy petals that she recognised to be a Blue Oleander. It was only then that it occurred to Astrid's sleep-deprived mind that she was probably making something, maybe a medicine, to help Hiccup. Cheeks warming with shame, she released the handle of her axe (which she didn't even realise she had been holding) and watched the old woman work.

Minutes later, Gothi seemed to be content with the mix she had created. Flapping her hands at Astrid, silently instructing her to get out of the way, she pulled out a small knife. Instinctively, Astrid jumped forward and grasped her bony wrist, adrenaline sending fiery crackles through her body. The old woman scowled at her and, with incomprehensible strength, wrenched her arm out of Astrid's grip. Before she could be grabbed again, the old woman stuck her knife underneath Hiccup's jacket and tore it from top to bottom with a single swipe. Astrid, suddenly understanding her intentions, helped her to pull the bloody remains of the jacket away from Hiccup's body so that the old woman could slice his shirt. After she had done so, the bandages were unveiled. Once white, the fabric wraps were stained a terrifying scarlet and streams of blood escaped from underneath. Slipping the knife under the bandages at a point as far away from Hiccup's wound as possible, Gothi cut away the final barrier between Hiccup's injury and the world.

The second the bandages fell away, a foul stench filled the air. Astrid nearly gagged at the sight of the laceration marring Hiccup's back. The flesh surrounding the hole in his back was inflamed and red, the ragged edges surrounded by a cloudy pus. The point where the arrow had entered Hiccup's body was indistinguishable from the endless stream of blood that erupted from it. Fresh tears stretched from either side of the hole, showing that the surrounding skin that had survived the initial shot had indeed been recently torn.

"I'm so sorry, Hiccup." Astrid whispered.

It was only then that, at the sight of something that _she_ was to blame for, that _she_ had caused, Astrid remembered something that could potentially save Hiccup's life: the horses. More importantly, what one of them was carrying. Throwing open the door of Gothi's hut, she ran back outside, inexplicably trusting an old woman with the life of the prince of Berk as she did. Both horses were still stood outside, seemingly untouched, the woman that had brought her to Gothi holding their reins. Ignoring Storm's attention craving neighs and Night's uncertain snuffles, Astrid raced over to the stallion and removed all three saddlebags belonging to Hiccup. Ignoring the impatient frown of the woman, she raced back inside.

Gothi was holding a damp rag to Hiccup's back as Astrid walked in, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Astrid dropped all three bags by the door and rifled around in them until she found the small pouch containing the medicine that she had been too ignorant to use.

"Use these to save him." She instructed, holding it out to the healer.

The healer took the bag without complaint. After quickly reading the labels of each of the bottles nestled inside, she separated the contents into two piles. Sweeping the contents of the larger pile back into the bag and handing it to Astrid, Gothi immediately got to work. Astrid watched, transfixed, as she added liquids from the bottles to the pot over the fire, poured medicines onto his wound and turned him on his side so that she could squirt something down his throat. When she had used every medicine that she had planned to, she dipped a rag in the pot over the hearth and continued to clean Hiccup's wound with it. Once the wound was clean (to a certain degree) she used the same bandages that Astrid had used since the first night to wrap up the wound. Finally, she dipped a fresh rag in a pot of water and tied it gently to Hiccup's forehead. Astrid cursed herself for not thinking of something so simple when Hiccup had been under her care.

"Will he live?" she asked tentatively when Gothi had finished.

Features screwing up into a frown, the old woman nodded uncertainly. Despite this, Astrid was unable to banish the uneasy knot in her stomach.

Presently, Gothi tapped Astrid's arm and pointed out of her open door towards the woman holding the reins of the horses. Forcing herself to be rational, Astrid walked outside.

"Thank you for holding onto our horses. Is there a stable in this village?" she asked upon reaching her. The woman nodded, still frowning in an irritated fashion. "Good. I want you to take these horses there and find them a stall each. If either of them are harmed in any way, I will know who to look for."

Instead of immediately doing as Astrid ordered, the woman's frown deepened. "I've taken you to Gothi and held onto your animals while you blathered around inside that hut. I'm sorry, but there are places I need to be, so if you don't mind…"

Sighing angrily, Astrid dug around in her pocket until she found her last gold coin. Reluctantly, she handed it to the woman, who bit it and shoved it in her pocket with a smile.

"That should be more than enough for the horses and your troubles." Astrid said, silently vowing to charge Hiccup an extra coin if he survived.

Not if. When.

"Name's Brynhild, lass." the brown-haired woman said. "You mind giving me yours?"

Astrid recognised the exchanging of names to be an offer of trust. She needed this woman - Brynhild - on her side for the sake of the horses, but she knew that it would be dangerous to give somebody her real name. Few knew her by face, but she was known by other means.

"My name is Heather. Heather Thorston." She said firmly, biting back the painful memories that fought to accompany both forename and surname.

"Don't worry, Heather – your horses will be safe and sound in Jorvik's finest stables."

"For your sake, I hope you're right."

Nodding, the woman strode away with the horses, her fat brown braid swinging between her shoulder blades. Storm whinnied, tossing her head, but eventually allowed the woman to lead her away. Astrid watched her go, anxiety knotting her insides. Eventually reminding herself of Hiccup's condition, which was nowhere near sound, she strode back inside the hut.

Hiccup still lay motionless on the table when she entered, eyes closed and sweat coating every visible part of his skin. Wanting to know for sure, Astrid held her hand in front of his mouth and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his shallow breath on her skin.

To Astrid's surprise, Gothi picked up her staff and began to scribble something on the dirt floor. She barely spared the elderly healer a glance, keeping her gaze fixated on the prince.

Gothi sighed irritably when she realised that Astrid wasn't paying attention to or understanding her. She hobbled over to one of the cupboards and pulled out a slate and chalk. Then, she tapped Astrid on the shoulder and began to write something with an unpractised hand.

 _He was hours from death,_ she wrote, flooding Astrid with a fresh wave of guilt _but you brought him to me just in time. Your medicines were of good quality and very useful. It is likely that he will survive the night because of them and his strength._

"How long until we can leave?" Astrid asked, feeling the knot in her stomach loosen somewhat.

 _Until he is able to stand again, and at least a week after that, you must stay in Jorvik. He won't be able to use his arm to the full extent ever again, but he's left handed, so it doesn't really matter. How did he come by such a wound?_

Astrid had to resist the urge to swear. It could take weeks, maybe even a month or more, for them to get moving again. In a crowded pubic village, somebody could discover who Hiccup was in that time and armed soldiers would be coming for her and the prince. Not wanting Gothi to be the first to discover his identity, Astrid had to think fast. "We were travelling through the forest on our way here and he was shot by a dragon hunter. I did my best to keep him alive, but I know very little of medicine."

The old woman nodded, then rubbed the slate clean and began to write anew. _And who are you? We have many travellers pass through our village, but few have made such a commotion such as yourselves and own such expensive medicines._

Astrid furrowed her eyebrows. _Shit._ Why did the old woman have to be so nosy? "My name is Heather Thorston, and this is my cousin, Aricin Thorston. We're travelling to see our friends, the Ingremans. The medicine was for them, but they said that we could use it in an emergency. I think this qualifies as an emergency."

The old woman nodded slowly, and Astrid let go of the handle of her axe, not even realising that she was holding it. Done with quizzing her, the old woman put the slate down and checked Hiccup's temperature. Shaking her head, she retrieved a fresh rag and a bowl of water and washed the blood from Hiccup's back. Astrid, unsure of what to do, watched her absently.

Presently, the old woman picked up the slate again. _Your cousin may stay here until he is healed. If you wish to stay with him, I have a spare room._ When she was finished writing, she pointed a wrinkled finger towards two doors that Astrid hadn't noticed, which led to two small bedrooms. At the prospect of sleeping on a real bed again after days of sleeping rough, Astrid felt her heart lift.

"Your offer is most kind. We own very little, my cousin and I, but we shall do the best to pay you back for your kindness."

The old woman waved her hand dismissively, which Astrid hoped meant that she didn't want to be paid. She turned back to Hiccup after a moment, watching his body rise and fall with each weak breath. Even more than she could fully comprehend, she hoped that he would be okay.

With the same hidden strength, the tiny old woman pulled up the rickety chair that stood by the door and gestured for Astrid to sit. Nodding gratefully, Astrid removed her axe from the sling and sat near the table, spreading her faithful weapon out across her lap for comfort more than anything else.

Once again, Gothi picked up the slate. _I must gather new herbs to replace the ones that I have used. You may stay in this house with your cousin for as long as you wish. If you're hungry, the soup shouldn't be too cold._

Astrid nodded gratefully, watching the old woman as she waddled out of the door. A rational fear – that she was leaving to inform the rest of the town of Hiccup's presence – knotted her stomach, but she couldn't do anything about it. The very thought of attacking the woman who had probably saved Hiccup's life made her feel nauseous.

Instead, she fixed her gaze on the prince, inexplicably noticing how the late afternoon sunlight brought out the auburn undertones in his hair. As much as she tried to banish those thoughts, her foggy mind was hazy and lacking any proper order. Because of this, her mind began to drift backwards.

When she was ill as a child, her mother or father would always pay far more attention to her than was probably necessary. They would insist on filling her with broths and stews, always taking her temperature, constantly fussing over her. As much as she pretended to be annoyed at the constant attention, she had enjoyed the chance, brief as it was, to let somebody take care of her. She had especially loved it when her mother had sat beside her bed crooning an old lullaby and brushed her hair out of her eyes with gentle fingertips.

Somehow, she found herself running her calloused fingertips through Hiccup's damp fringe, brushing the auburn strands out of his eyes. She did not hum, for she had not inherited a melodic voice, but she reminded herself of her mother all the same. Although she tried to force her hand away many times, she did not move until Gothi returned.

* * *

 **A/N ~ Guess what? I'm a liar.**

 **No, not really. This update was on time because this chapter was super fun to write. What I said in the last chapter still applies: updates will be more sporadic, but usually only when I'm at a point in the story that I find boring to write, (E.g. chapters 3-6) which isn't the case for this chapter. Hopefully, it won't be the case for a while. Never fear, however: no matter how much I love or hate writing it, I _will_ finish this story.**

 **As always, I'd love to hear constructive criticism. Thank you all so much for every review, follow and favourite. Each means the world to me.**

 **I'll see you when I see you!**

 _Aricin (Astrid's fake name for Hiccup): son of the eternal king_

 _Brynhild: Armoured female warrior (in the original draft, this was Astrid's fake name, but I decided that Heather was more fitting. Wink wink.)_


	9. Chapter Nine - Soldiers

**Chapter Nine: Soldiers**

Just as the sun began to crawl toward the horizon, Gothi returned. Astrid practically jumped out of her skin when the old woman threw open the door of her hut and strode in. She yanked her hand away from Hiccup's fringe and jumped out of her seat. With a clatter, her axe fell to the floor, disturbed by her sudden movement. Flushing, she bent down to retrieve it, then pulled her chair away from Hiccup a little and sat back down.

The old woman barely took any notice of her, although she gave Hiccup a once-over before getting on with her task. After lighting three candles, she rootled around in the cupboards for a coil of yarn and began to bundle together the fresh herbs that she pulled out of her satchel, plucking strands of hair from her head when the thread ran out. When she was finished, Gothi heaved the pot of soup back onto the fire and relit the dying embers, occasionally adding new things to the soon bubbling mixture. When she was finished, she poured the broth out into two bowls and handed one (along with a spoon) to Astrid. Cradling the bowl between her fingers in an attempt at comfort, Astrid sat still for a few minutes while the old woman slurped her soup. Eventually, she brought the spoon to her lips and sipped. It was salty and sweet at the same time, like berries and fish. The strange mixture brought a comforting reminder. A reminder of home.

When they were both finished, Gothi washed up the bowls and retrieved needles and a bundle of wool that was probably supposed to be an article of clothing. Instead, it looked like something a cat had abandoned after a lengthy play. Seemingly unaware of this, the old woman walked over to Astrid and tapped her shoulder. Uncertainly, Astrid rose to her feet and the old woman immediately took her chair. Put out, Astrid watched with a scowl while Gothi began to knit at a speed that reduced her fingers to a blur. _No wonder it looks so bad_ Astrid thought, scoffing.

Presently, her body began to sway with exhaustion, so Astrid walked to the far end of the table near Hiccup's feet. She gingerly moved the prince's legs to either side of the table and sat between them so that her hips were resting against his ankles. Trying to regain a sense of normalcy, she pulled a whetstone out of her pocket and rested her axe over her crossed legs, losing herself in the steadiness of the repeated action and the familiar sound of stone against metal. Soon, the clacking of needles and squeal of her sharpening became the only sounds filling Astrid's as the activity of the town faded with the sunlight.

When her axe was deemed sharp enough, she pulled her knees up to her chest and held it in front of her, twisting the handle so that the glinting edges of the blade reflected the candlelight. Her eyelids, having not closed properly since the night before last, began to droop. A momentary loss of consciousness nearly caused her to drop her axe.

Halting her knitting, Gothi stood and placed a hand on Astrid's shoulder. The blonde tensed but managed not to lash out. Once she had her attention, the healer pointed to the spare room. As much as Astrid wanted to collapse upon a clean, comfy surface, she remembered who was resting upon the same table as her.

"I cannot leave… Aricin." She said, her exhaustion doing nothing to mask her certainty.

Gothi poked her a few times, but Astrid just kept shaking her head. Eventually, the old woman nodded. She pulled Astrid off the table and sat her down on the chair once again. After checking Hiccup's pulse and breathing rate, dripping some of the expensive medicine down his throat and refreshing the rag on his forehead, she wrote something on the slate, handed it to Astrid and walked into her room, closing the door behind her. Astrid looked down at the slate, having to read it several times to absorb the information set out before her. It simply said: _If anything changes, wake me._

Astrid placed the slate on top of one of the cupboards and walked towards the door, glancing at Hiccup once before stepping outside. If she was going to stay up for the second night in a row, she would need some fresh air first.

The sun was moments away from setting. The street in which Gothi's house resided was empty save for one man, who paid Astrid no mind as he went to each lantern lining the street and lit it. The warrior leaned against the door, allowing herself one minute in endless darkness before she returned inside. The cool night air danced across her face, clearing her mind a little.

With some of her exhaustion alleviated, Astrid was able to note that Gothi's house was a part of the last row before Raven Forest. Knowing this relaxed her a little. If she and Hiccup needed to flee, they would be able to reach the cover of the great oaks sooner than anybody could think to stop them.

As she turned to go back inside, Astrid thought she noticed a flash of emerald green lurking between the leaves of a bush in the forest. Deciding that it was her tired mind forbidding her from thinking clearly, she stepped back inside the house and closed the door behind her.

Hiccup's condition had not changed, but Astrid checked anyway. His breathing was still shallow, although it had grown steadier. Rubbing her eyes fiercely, Astrid sat down in the same way she had before with her axe across her lap. Resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, she looked down at the unconscious prince. This time, she managed to keep her hands to herself.

"I'm not going to sleep, Hiccup. Not until you wake up." She vowed.

* * *

Hours later, Astrid awoke with a start when she heard the thud of hooves on dirt outside Gothi's hut. Punching her thigh in anger at herself for falling asleep, she immediately checked Hiccup's breathing and pulse and turned over the rag covering his forehead. Luckily, nothing about his condition seemed to have changed for the worse, but Astrid was unable to quell her guilt. Again, she had fallen prey to weakness. Again, she had failed him.

It was only then, when she began to relax once more, that Astrid dwelled on what had awoken her. The sound of horses. It was the middle of the night, so horses entering the very village that she had taken Hiccup to could only mean one thing: they had been discovered.

Astrid lifted her axe higher and turned to face the door, trying to break her mind out of autopilot as she prepared to face whatever entered. There was a slight chance that the horse riders didn't know where Hiccup was, or that they weren't even looking for him, but she wasn't about to let a possibility of safety fool her into not being on her guard. Now, with her eyes heavy and her mind struggling to focus, she knew that refusing to sleep had been a bad idea.

After a minute of tense silence, a voice drowned out the silence of the night. Astrid jumped, her fingers fumbling around her axe, and stomped her foot in frustration at her own uselessness.

"Greetings, people of Berk, residents of Jorvik!" the voice yelled, effectively disturbing the town from its slumber. "Please vacate your houses and inns. I have an important announcement. This is not optional."

The male voice repeated itself three times. Astrid found herself frozen, her limbs as tense as wire, until she felt a withered hand close around her upper arm. Yelping, she wrenched her arm free and stopped herself from lashing out when turned to see Gothi. The old woman was clutching her staff and wearing the same clothes that she had when Astrid met her. Pressing a finger to her lips, the healer walked towards the door and pushed it open. Although every fibre of her being urged her to stay beside Hiccup, Astrid followed. She needed to know if they were truly in danger.

Gothi walked right out into the street, staff tapping furiously with each step. Astrid lurked by the doorframe, keeping both hands around her axe and allowing her face to be bathed in shadow. What she saw made her stomach writhe.

Two horses stood in the square, both held by a man dressed in the green, brown and gold of the king's soldiers. Another man stood in the centre of the square, holding an unrolled scroll which he read from in a booming yet monotone voice. The sight that truly chilled Astrid's blood was the signet sewn with obvious hurry onto his chest. Instead of a haddock fish leaping out of the ocean before a setting sun, the Haddock signature, the emblem sewn in gold thread depicted a sword burying itself in a dragon's eye. If Astrid were to hazard a guess, she would say that it was the token of Hiccup's uncle: The man who had killed King Stoick and was now trying to kill the prince she was protecting.

When most of the people had stepped out of their homes, weary and grumbling, the soldier continued his announcement.

"A most tragic event has occurred but six nights before the very one in which I bring this news to you. Our beloved king: Stoick the Vast, king of Berk, man of the fiery mane, governor of the Archipelago, is dead."

Horrified mutters diffused through the crowd and sobs soon rose into the night. Astrid's grip around her axe tightened as a flicker of sadness rose in her stomach.

"Even a death of old age would be a tragic occurrence. The reality, however, is even more difficult to bear. For our great king did not die in his sleep: he was murdered!"

One woman screamed and children began to wail, drowning out Astrid's surprised gasp. Why were the soldiers revealing the truth of the king's death? Didn't they work for his murderer?

"He died of a stab to the chest while he slept. Luckily, his healers say that it was probably painless. On the very night of his death, his son fled to Raven Forest upon a black stallion, carrying with him stolen food and a bloody sword. Strong evidence leads the king's grieving brother, Spitelout Jorgenson, to believe that Prince Hiccup murdered his own father and fled the scene once discovered."

To Astrid's surprise, she felt hot anger boiling in her stomach. She wanted to drive her axe into something, whether it be wood or flesh. How could that piece of scum murder his own brother in cold blood and blame it on his nephew? On Hiccup Haddock?

Astrid had to release her wrath by spitting on the ground and cursing underneath her breath, actions which did not go unnoticed by Gothi. The old woman was frowning but, to Astrid's surprise, her eyes were full of tears. After a moment, both women turned their attention back to the soldier.

"Prince Hiccup, once beloved by all, is a traitor to his father and the crown. He is liable to charges of murder and treason; crimes, I assure you all, that shall not go without reprimand. Once he is found, he shall be executed publicly.

"King Stoick has no other living heirs, leaving only two candidates for the throne: His brother, prince Spitelout, or his nephew, prince Snotlout. Unless Spitelout wishes to revoke his claim on the throne of Berk, the crown shall pass to him. Unless he decides otherwise, prince Spitelout's coronation shall be in three weeks. One of these weeks shall consist of a mourning period, which shall begin this Thorsday, in which we shall all have time to say goodbye our beloved king.

"All we know now is that the former crown prince is now on the run, perhaps with a hired accomplice. Or, as we all hope, suffering in Hel for his crimes. If any of you happen to see him, you are ordered to restrain him and contact us. My comrades and I will be patrolling the villages until our new king is crowned or the prince's body is found. You will not struggle to find us. For those of you who are unaware, prince Hiccup is of a tall and skinny build…"

The man began to list off Hiccup's identifying features one by one. Astrid's throat tightened. With each word the soldier uttered, the likelihood that somebody would recognise him rose.

 _Gothi._

There was no way, no way in Hel, that the sharp old woman wouldn't assign the prince's description to the unconscious boy on her table. No way.

Throwing open the door of Gothi's hut with a crash, Astrid raced inside just as the soldier was finishing his speech. Hiccup was still lying on the table, his chest rising and falling and beads of sweat coating his skin. Placing her axe in the sling, Astrid shoved her arms underneath his body and lifted him with a suppressed scream of agony.

As she settled him in her arms, conscious of how much damage she was probably causing, she heard the first sound that he had made since he lost consciousness: a small, agonised moan.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Hiccup." Astrid gasped, gritting her teeth. "You're safe. I'll keep you safe."

As she turned, Astrid saw Gothi standing in the middle of the doorway.

"Thank you for your help. We'll be going now." She managed shortly.

Gothi shook her head. She stepped over the threshold and closed the door with an ominous bang.

"Don't make me hurt you, Gothi." Astrid warned. "Get out of the way. I won't hesitate to do what I must."

Gothi stepped aside. Before Astrid could even take a step forward, the healer darted towards one of the cupboards and returned to her position in front of the door with her slate. Then, after scribbling furiously, she held it up for Astrid to read.

 _He is the prince?_

"Well done on figuring out the obvious." Astrid snarked. "Now, get out of my way. I don't want to have to hurt you."

Gothi rubbed her sleeve across the slate and began to write anew.

 _He did not kill his father._

Astrid was not quick enough to quell the flicker of hope that sparked in her chest. Had Gothi seen through the lies of the soldiers? "No, he is not. But the people in this village don't know that, do they? I have to get him to safety."

Gothi shook her head. _If you take him now, he will surely die. I can protect him._

"What are you going to do? Give the soldiers a rap on the head with your staff?"

 _Besides, it's_ my _job to protect him._ Astrid thought, almost childishly.

Gothi tapped her staff on the ground and nodded firmly. Astrid, much to her surprise, felt a weary laugh bubble in her throat. It eventually freed itself, and she began to chuckle like a manwoman.

Putting it simply, she had two choices: stay, and she and Hiccup might die. Or leave, and he definitely would, although her survival would be guaranteed.

To her, for one reason or another, there was no choice.

Moaning with exhaustion, Astrid quelled her exhausted laughter, heaved Hiccup back onto the table and rolled him onto his stomach as she had done so before. The thought of the damage that she might have caused him through her rash decision-making sickened her. She allowed herself one second to stop, rest her heavy head on the table and allow her mind and body to catch up. Then, she pulled her axe out of its sling once again and stood with her back to Hiccup.

"I'd like to see them try and take him."

The second the words left her lips, the door to Gothi's hut burst open. Two people stooped through the doorway: Brynhild, the woman who had led Astrid to Gothi and taken Night and Storm to the stables, and a beefy man with a brown mane of hair and a beard of the same colour that nearly reached his waist. His hand, Astrid noticed, was resting on the hilt of a sword tucked into his belt.

"That's him, Brynhild?" the man asked, looking right through Astrid and pointing at Hiccup. Astrid stepped forward, brandishing her axe, but he paid her no more mind than he might a bothersome fly.

"Well, I must say this." The man said, staring at Hiccup with hard brown eyes. "I never expected the prince of Berk himself to come to die in my village."

* * *

 **A/N ~ Thank you all so flipping much for getting this story to 50 reviews and follows! I never would've been motivated to write without you guys and your support. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.**


	10. Chapter Ten - Hiccup?

**Chapter Ten: Hiccup?**

The man's words sent crackles of alarm through Astrid's body, turning her limbs to fire and clearing most of the exhaustion from her mind. Immediately, she began to assess the situation and decide the best course of action. If he even moved towards Hiccup, she decided, she would cleave his pudgy neck from his shoulders or sever his sword hand if he was quick to draw his weapon. There was no way he was getting to Hiccup. No way.

"Try and touch one hair on his head. I dare you." Astrid snarled, raising her axe into an offensive stance.

Finally, the man looked at her. His mouth morphed into an amused grin. "Oh, and you'll be able to stop me, sweetheart? You and your big bad axe?" he asked, using the pet name as an insult and speaking to her as if she were no more than a child screaming pathetic insults.

"Yeah, me and my big bad axe." Astrid said, her voice settling into a state of eerie tranquillity. "My big bad axe in your big bad skull."

Chuckling, the man began to draw his sword. Astrid sprung forward before it was even halfway out of the sheath, swinging her axe in an arc above her head as she prepared to sink it into flesh and bone.

Seconds before her blade reached the man, Gothi strode purposefully between them. Astrid's arms went limp from shock. The tiny old woman reached up to the man, who was twice her height, and bashed him three times on the temple with her staff. Immediately, the man shied away and clutched his skull, whimpering out of fear more than anything else. The entire thing was so unexpected, so random, that Astrid felt a hysterical laugh bubble in her throat.

"He's a murderer, Gothi! He killed his father!" the man protested once he had somewhat regained control of his faculties.

Gothi scribbled in the dirt furiously.

"What do you mean, it was a lie? It came right out of a soldier's mouth! He read it from an official document! You can't seriously believe anything this little girl is telling you, Gothi."

Gothi bashed him around the head again.

"Ever head of a lie?" Astrid asked tauntingly, hefting her axe onto her shoulder. "Can you seriously look at this man behind me and tell me to my face that he's a murderer?"

The man glanced at Hiccup, clearly taking in how vulnerable he looked as he lay unconscious and wrapped in bandages. "Whatever he told you was probably a story." He said, although with less assurance than before. "How'd you know he ain't lying to you?"

"Because I'm not a fool." Astrid snarked, earning herself a livid glare. "Prince Hiccup is not a murderer. Spitelout killed king Stoick and he tried to kill prince Hiccup, too."

After spending six nights in Hiccup's company, she knew as well as her own name that he was not capable of murder. It wasn't in his nature. He was as much a killer as dragons were peaceful, loving creatures with temperaments resembling that of cats.

Face still contorted into a scowl, the man slowly retracted his sword and slid it into its sheath. He looked at Gothi uncertainly, his expression wavering as he considered her equally incandescent look. When the old woman waved her staff at him threateningly, his face tightened with fear and he ducked out of the hut.

Brynhild, who had been watching the entire exchange in silence, went to follow. When she reached the door, she looked back at Hiccup and accidentally caught Astrid's eye. The warrior glared at the brown-haired woman, throwing all of the rage she could muster into her gaze. Brynhild had put Hiccup in danger and she wasn't about to forget it.

A moment later, Brynhild broke eye contact and ran sheepishly after the man.

Once her victorious smirk had faded, Gothi retrieved her slate, scribbled something on it and held it up to Astrid.

 _That man was Boldolf. If there's a leader of this village, it's him._

"Some leader." Astrid spat, thinking of how the man had cowered before Gothi. The old woman sniggered silently. After a moment's pause, Astrid coughed awkwardly and did her best to voice the mixed feeling swirling around in her mind. "Thank you, Gothi. I guess you protected Hiccup after all."

Gothi nodded and smiled genuinely, accepting her thanks. _You need to sleep_ she wrote. _I can watch over him until dawn._

Her offer was undoubtedly tempting. Now that the buzz of adrenaline in her limbs was slowly diffusing, Astrid's arms and legs felt liked lead and her eyelids drooped of their own accord. She looked out of the window. The sky outside was still pitch black and dotted with stars. Then, she looked to Hiccup, who was dead to the world and unaware that his life had been in jeopardy. Finally, she looked back to Gothi, who was gripping her staff and frowning up at her determinedly.

"What if more people come for him?" she asked, unable to stop herself from glancing back to Hiccup as she did.

 _Then I will make them go._ The woman replied simply.

It was then that Astrid realised, to her surprise, that she trusted the elderly healer. After she had saved Hiccup from dying of infection, given them both a roof to sleep under, fed her, and saved Hiccup's life by deterring Boldolf, she trusted her.

 _And_ , Astrid thought as she collapsed onto the comfy spare bed, _she's the second person that I've trusted in a while._

* * *

At dawn, Astrid woke with a weary groan. The few hours that she had been unconscious were not nearly enough to return the fire to her dead limbs. However, the thought of Hiccup lying unconscious on the table and Gothi forcing sleep away to watch over him was enough to make her pull on her jacket and boots and heft her axe and sling onto her back. She didn't even bother to re-braid her hair before she strode out of the room and saw something that turned her blood cold.

The table in the centre of the room was covered in shredded clothing but no prince. Hiccup was gone.

He was _gone_.

Millions of thoughts raced through Astrid's mind. She yanked her axe out of the sling and raced towards the front door, convinced that somebody had taken Hiccup. _Gothi had let somebody take him._ And now he was gone. She had failed him. He was gone, probably dead at the hands of Boldolf, Brynhild or some other crazy Spitelout follower.

Just as she laid a hand on the door handle, she heard the dull thud of wood against dirt. Gothi's staff. Astrid whipped her head around to see the healer walking through her bedroom with her back hunched and Hiccup flopped over it like she was giving him a strange piggyback. Astrid's axe clattered to the floor, narrowly missing her foot, as she beheld the unbelievable sight. Without glancing in the warrior's direction, Gothi jumped a little so that Hiccup flopped, face down, back onto the table. Then, she turned to Astrid, frowning in confusion at the sight of her fallen axe and bewildered expression.

"Wh… what were you doing?" Astrid managed faintly. Her exhaustion was far from sated and it returned with full force, rendering her confused and dense.

Gothi picked up the slate, clearly irritated at having to do so, and wrote: _Taking him to the toilet._

As soon as it dawned on her, Astrid cringed and nodded quickly to show that it didn't need further explanation.

"Did any more people come?" she asked once she had filtered the unpleasant images out of her mind.

 _No. I doubt any of them remembered him. And, if they did, none were brave enough to seek him._

Astrid nodded, allowing herself to relax somewhat.

Again, Gothi held up the slate. _You may as well be useful._

As the sun inched further and further away from the horizon, Astrid – per Gothi's instructions – made porridge in the pot over the hearth while the healer rewrapped Hiccup's wound. Needless to say, it felt strange to Astrid to be doing something so ordinary and domestic. The resulting breakfast was lumpy and burnt to a degree that even honey could not save, but Gothi guzzled it down like it was her last meal nonetheless. Astrid poked at the substance in her bowl hesitantly for a few minutes, still sitting there while Gothi returned to tending to Hiccup. Eventually, her growling stomach won out and she polished off the bowl.

Astrid was just beginning to untangle and re-braid her hair when a thundering knock resounded throughout the hut. Gothi, who was holding up Hiccup so that she could drip some cold porridge down his throat, frowned and rested the prince in his original position so that she could answer it. Astrid placed a handle on her axe, limbs tense as she prepared for confrontation.

She swung the door open, revealing Boldolf. The faint light of the sunrise cast shadows under his nose, eyes and lips, giving him a gaunt, corpse-like appearance that made Astrid distrust him even more. The warrior picked up her axe from where it had been resting against one of the cupboards and walked towards the table holding the unconscious prince, leaning against it and locking her gaze on the 'leader' of the village.

Boldolf glanced at Astrid, his gaze landing briefly on her axe before he turned back to Gothi. "I want to apologise for my behaviour last night, Gothi." He said, removing his helmet and holding it by the horns as he twirled it uncomfortably.

Astrid didn't even attempt to hold back her snort of disbelief. Boldolf glanced at her, his expression irate, before looking back to Gothi and moulding his features into his former apologetic look.

"I acted rashly." He continued. "You know how desperate I am to keep the village safe, Gothi – I couldn't stand the thought of somebody putting the women and children in danger. But, after I reflected long and hard, I have decided to wait until the prince wakes to deliver my verdict."

"How thoughtful of you." Astrid remarked.

Other than his hands tightening around his helmet horns, Boldolf gave no sign that he had heard her. After none of them moved or said anything for a minute, Boldolf nodded awkwardly, placed his helmet back on and walked out of the door. Astrid caught a glimpse of the street, crowded and alive with the sound of dozens of voices, before the door closed behind him and she was shrouded by the suffocating gloom once more.

"I don't trust him." she said immediately.

Gothi tutted. Astrid felt a little guilty at wearing her heart so obviously on her sleeve, but she stood by what she said. That man was bad news, but it wasn't like there was anything she could do about it unless he made the first move.

Acting like nothing had happened, Gothi went back to feeding Hiccup. Astrid, sighing angrily at having to start again, combed out her floppy braid and began anew. She was glad that having to redo her hair gave her another reason to dislike Boldolf. While she plaited, she watched Hiccup as Gothi attended to him for any signs of deterioration. Thankfully, she didn't see anything, although there were no signs of improvement either.

When she had finished the braid and secured the end, Gothi tapped her on the shoulder and held up the slate.

 _I'm going to sleep. Unless something changes, wake me in two hours._

Astrid nodded, barely holding back a yawn.

As she sat down on the chair, resting her chin on her interlinked fingers, Astrid wondered if Storm and Night were safe in Jorvik's stables. She had entrusted them to Brynhild in the hope that they would be safe with her, but it wasn't like the brunette had turned out to be very dependable, had she? She had sold Hiccup out to Boldolf, for Gods' sake!

If that woman had done something to Storm – whether it endangered Hiccup or not – Astrid would make her pay.

In an attempt to banish the unpleasant thoughts from her mind, Astrid stood up and tried to dispel some of the nervous energy coursing through her body by exercising. This served as a distraction for a few minutes, but when one of her backwards somersaults resulted in her foot knocking a clay bowl off one of the cupboards and it smashed on the floor, she decided that it might be a good idea to stop. Stifling a frustrated groan, she threw herself onto the chair. With her axe sharp and Hiccup's unconscious state preventing her from leaving, she had nothing to do but sit and think about things she didn't want to think about.

After a few minutes of tense, agonising boredom, Astrid found herself running her hand through Hiccup's hair again for something to do more than anything else. She allowed all worrying thoughts to be drowned out by the soothing rhythm of the repeated action. Before she even realised what she was doing, she had stopped combing and began braiding the pieces of hair underneath his right ear.

"Sorry." she muttered when she realised what she was doing. Then, she began to laugh at herself for talking somebody who was unconscious.

Her chuckles ceased the second she heard it: a tiny groan. She bent down close enough to Hiccup's face to feel his breath on her cheek, her hand still in his hair.

"Hiccup?" she whispered, almost afraid to believe what she had heard. "Hiccup? Can you hear me?"

There was no mistaking it. He made the same whimpering noise and she swore she saw his eyelids flutter.

"Hiccup?" she breathed, still unable to believe it.

"A…. Astrid?"

* * *

 **A/N ~ Return of the Hiccup!**

 **Hello, all!**

 **So... what do you guys think of Boldolf? What do you think his "verdict" will be? Do you think he'll help Hiccup or turn out to be a supporter of Spitelout? Same goes for Brynhild!**

 **This chapter was the shortest so far because, as fun as it is to write Astrid's POV, it was threatening to get boring again. Still, I hope you guys enjoyed it!** **As always, I love hearing your thoughts!**

 **Thank you so much for reading!** **I'll see you when I see you! ;)**


	11. Chapter Eleven - Verdict

**Chapter Eleven: Verdict**

OoOoO

"Sorry." A voice said, accompanied by a small chuckle.

And the darkness was broken.

The pain returned with the memories of the past few days, trickling slowly into his mind like water from a dried-up river as consciousness returned to him. It was dull and subdued thanks to the drugs flowing through his system but still painful enough that it, combined with the agonising memories of his father's demise, drew out the first sound that he had made in days.

"Hiccup?" the voice whispered in response to his quiet moan. He immediately realised who owned it. Astrid.

"Hiccup? Can you hear me?"

He tried to open his eyes but it came as easily to him as the ability to breathe fire.

"Hiccup?" Astrid mumbled, her breath dancing across his closed eyelids.

"A… Astrid?" he managed. It felt like his body had been torn apart with the effort.

Finally, he managed to open his eyes.

Astrid's face was inches from his, close enough for Hiccup to make out the dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. Dark bags hung under her eyes, her clothes were rumpled and her face was smudged with mud. Despite it all (and he cursed his drugged mind for thinking such a stupid thing) she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Hiccup!" she exclaimed, her voice surprisingly full of relief and… happiness? "I was starting to think you wouldn't ever wake up."

"Hopeful, were you?" he joked, forcing out each syllable but deciding that it was worth the effort.

"No." she immediately answered thoughtfully, almost as if it was news to her as well.

Hiccup didn't know what to think about that revelation.

After half a minute of silence, his eyelids began to grow heavier as unconsciousness beckoned him. Wanting to know what was going on before he passed out again, he asked Astrid how long he had been unconscious.

Astrid frowned briefly, almost if she was struggling to remember, before telling him that it had only been a day.

"It felt like longer." She remarked. "I guess a lot happened."

"What happened?" he asked, already beginning to feel nervous. He looked around the room, unsettled by the unfamiliarity. "Where are we?"

"In Jorvik, staying in the home of a healer named Gothi. She's taking care of you. Speaking of which – don't faint again, I'll be back in a second."

She stood and stepped out of his line of view. Hiccup struggled to do as she instructed as he looked around the room, taking in every detail. Just as his eyelids were beginning to droop, Astrid walked into his sight again, followed by a small, hunched old woman clutching a staff with bony fingers.

The old woman, who he assumed to be Gothi, checked his pulse and breathing before cutting away the bandages wrapped around his torso. He winced as he felt the cold air latch onto the laceration marring his back but managed to hold back tears as the elderly woman poured various pain-inducing liquids on the wound and wrapped it up again. She finished by pouring a brown liquid from a small bottle into his mouth, which Hiccup swallowed without question despite how disgusting it tasted.

"Um…" Hiccup began once she had finished, painfully aware of his nakedness. "Can I have a shirt, please?"

Astrid, who had been standing to the side clearly not knowing what to do with herself, nodded and walked towards the door where the saddlebags were resting and pulled out a fresh shirt for him without even needing to check which bag held his clothes. Hiccup wondered briefly if she had been looking through his stuff but pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

When he tried to sit up, a stab of agony broke through the heavy drugs that had been acting as a wall between him and the pain. Hiccup swallowed a cry of agony, his vision blurring with tears.

A hand pressed to the small of his back, another other cupping his elbow, and helped him to sit up as he swung his legs over the side of the table. He assumed that the person was Gothi seeing as she was the closest, but when his vision cleared, he saw that it was Astrid standing at his side with her hands on his bare skin. She removed them the second he was sat up properly, pressing the shirt into his hands just like she had done so with the map days before. Her hands were hot against his freezing skin and he shivered when she removed them.

Nodding at her in thanks, Hiccup carefully pulled the shirt over his head and wrestled his aching right arm through with the Gothi's help. Thankfully, the fabric of the shirt hid his obvious blush while he was putting it on.

"What happened when I was asleep?" he asked once he had wrestled on the article of clothing, looking between the two women with raised eyebrows.

Sighing deeply, Astrid sat in the chair and told him everything. About reaching the village a minute or so after he passed out, about Brynhild, about Gothi healing him, about the soldiers and what they had said and both interactions with Boldolf. She said the man's name with a derisive expression, her hand tightening around the handle of her axe as she recalled his previous determination to murder Hiccup.

Hiccup didn't really pay attention to her hatred of the man; he was more focused on the lies that the soldiers had spread about him.

"He…" he swallowed heavily and coughed, his determination to let the words in his mind escape making it difficult to draw breath. When he finally managed to speak, he was nearly shouting. "He murdered my father – his brother! And he _blames me_ , he _dares_ to say that I would plunge a sword into my own father's heart! My dad is dead and he is enough of a monster to say that I was the one holding the sword!"

If he had the strength to shout, to yell, to kick the table until one of the legs fell off, Hiccup would've. Instead, he gripped the rough wood tightly in an attempt to dispel his fury and steady himself, knowing that he could do none of those things. The small room was beginning to spin and he would've fallen off the table if Astrid hadn't grabbed his arm and righted him. He was in too much of a funk to even thank her.

Eventually, rationality settled over his mind. Hiccup knew that it would do him no good to release his rage now and he certainly didn't want to unleash it on Astrid and Gothi. No. He would to save his loathing and vengeance for Spitelout when they met again – because they would. Hiccup promised himself that they would. And when they did, Spitelout would deserve everything he got.

Finally, he looked up. Gothi was frowning, although clearly not at him, and Astrid was watching him carefully. He caught her gaze for a second. Unable to read her features and learn her reaction to his outburst, he looked back down at his toes and breathed in heavily in order to settle his stomach.

A thundering knock sounded at the door, making all three of them jump. Astrid turned to Hiccup, eyes wide, seemingly already forming a plan.

"That's probably Boldolf. Lie back down and pretend you're unconscious."

Hiccup prepared to do as she instructed but was stopped when Gothi placed a hand on his arm. Shaking her head, she motioned for Hiccup to stay still and hobbled towards the door. Astrid stepped in front of him with her axe held at waist height, partially blocking his view of the door in her effort to protect him. He wished that he had his sword so that he wasn't totally defenceless, but it was residing in one of his saddlebags by the door and there was no way that he could retrieve it in his state in the given time. It wasn't like he could use it even if he did.

"Don't tell him my name." Astrid hissed, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Boldolf can't know my name. Nobody can."

Before he could ask why, Gothi opened the door, letting in a massive man with a bushy beard, beefy arms and ponytail that reminded Hiccup so painfully of his father that he had to look away for a second.

"I came to check if the prince was – oh, you are." The man diverted his gaze from Gothi and turned to face Hiccup, taking off his helmet in what the prince knew to be a respectful gesture. Hiccup heard a small sound coming from Astrid – he assumed it was a chuckle or snort – and Boldolf's face briefly contorted in rage before returning to his previous look of civil surprise.

"You must be Boldolf." Hiccup said politely, unable to mask his exhaustion. The man didn't seem to notice.

"I am. I assume you know why I'm here."

Hiccup nodded gingerly, not wanting to waste his energy. A heavy fog was hanging over his mind, dulling his senses and threatening to slur his speech as it begged him to go back to sleep. He forced himself not to obey.

"Well," the man coughed, drawing himself higher. "I would like you to tell me how you came to came to Jorvik. And, if I may be so blunt, I need proof that you didn't kill your father. Your word may not be enough - your highness." He added, bowing jerkily.

"He woke up two minutes ago!" Astrid snapped before he could reply. Hiccup couldn't see her face, but he imagined that she was scowling. "Come back later. Or, preferably, don't come back at all and stop wasting our time."

The man didn't acknowledge her, but it was clear by his hands tightening around his helmet that her words affected him. Hiccup was surprised by their obvious mutual dislike. What had happened while he was unconscious?

"It's okay." He murmured, considering touching her arm but thinking better of it. "I want to get it out of the way."

Astrid glanced back at him, eyebrows knotted into a frown. Eventually, she nodded, leaning against the table and resting her axe against her leg as she glared at Boldolf. Despite her casual posture, Hiccup could see how tense her shoulders were.

Gothi, seemingly sensing how thirsty he was, pressed a cup of water into Hiccup's hands, which he drained while Boldolf watched on expectantly. After taking a deep breath, which stopped his head spinning a little, he began his tale.

He told Boldolf and Gothi of the first night: of his father's murder at his uncle's hand and meeting Astrid by the Hollow Oak. Describing his father's demise brought tears to his eyes and made his stomach churn with nausea, but he just gulped down a mouthful of air, blinked back tears and continued before anybody could notice. Hopefully.

He spoke of being shot by his uncle's men, which for some reason made Gothi smirk in satisfaction, and of Astrid pulling out the arrow. However, he made it seem like it was Astrid, not the Night Fury, that had killed the last of the men. Astrid shot him a confused glance but, thankfully, didn't say anything.

He concluded by telling them about their decision to head to Jorvik and his rapid deterioration.

"Then I blacked out and woke up in here a few minutes ago." He concluded. "I don't really know what happened while I was asleep."

"With all due respect for your hardships, your highness," Boldolf began, his expression deferential but his eyes narrowed. "Do you have any way to prove your tale?"

To Hiccup's surprise, the answer came to his drug-fuelled mind almost instantaneously. "Do you still have the contract?" he asked Astrid.

For a moment, Astrid's eyebrows knitted with confusion. Then, she nodded in understanding and walked towards the door. Hiccup saw her pause for a moment and glare up at Boldolf before she stepped around him and fished around in her saddlebag until she retrieved the slightly crumpled piece of paper. Then, she thrust the scroll into Boldolf's hand and went to stand beside Hiccup.

It was a little over the top, really.

Boldolf unrolled the piece of paper and read it slowly, his eyebrows knitting into a frown. Eventually, he rolled it up and tossed it to Astrid, who caught it deftly and tucked it into her belt.

"And that was signed by the king himself?"

"In his hand and mine." Astrid replied.

Boldolf smirked triumphantly. "Brynhild told me that your name was Heather Thorston. The contract was made with somebody under the name of A.H."

"The king and I agreed that it would be fitting to keep my identity a secret in case somebody stole the contract. And, obviously, I lied to Brynhild." Astrid replied, quirking an eyebrow almost like she was daring him to challenge her. "It was made a week before the king's death. He didn't tell me why he required my services – just that I had to meet prince Hiccup by the castle on the allocated night and deliver him safely to his destination."

"And we know now that it was because my uncle was planning on murdering me. My father saw the imminent danger and made the contract with... Heather... in order to protect me."

It only occurred to Hiccup then that the contract being made a week before his father's death could only mean two things: either Spitelout decided to attack the same night that he was set to flee by coincidence – or, more likely, he had somehow known that Hiccup was going to leave that day and had decided to enact his plan in order to intercept him. The latter possibility thoroughly unsettled him, for it meant that there was a possibility of a spy existing in the court.

Eventually, Boldolf nodded. "I apologise for my manner and for doubting you, your highness." He said, bowing properly. "I see the truth in your words and this contract is obviously no forgery - even if it is not entirely truthful." he added, glancing at Astrid as he did. "I hope that you can forgive me."

"I see that you were only doing what was best for your village. There shall be no bad blood between us. Thank you for your time."

"If you need anything – supplies, a place to stay, fast horses – I will be more than willing to provide it."

"Thank you." Hiccup said, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep.

He seemed to get the message. With a final bow, Boldolf walked out of the hut and closed the door behind him. Hiccup exhaled deeply, his head spinning. Gothi, seeing this, hobbled over. She patted the table, pointing downwards, which Hiccup took to be instructions to lie down. He readily did as she asked, lying down on his side so that he was facing the door. After she had checked over him, the healer grabbed a slate and began to scribble on it.

 _You must sleep. It was not good for you to talk so much while you were recovering. Boldolf is a very foolish man for making you hold a lengthy conversation with him moments after you had awoken. I shall wake you up in time for lunch._

"Thank you. Both of you."

Gothi patted him on the head in understanding and walked up to the hearth, gathering various food items from the cupboards and haphazardly tossing them into a large pot.

Astrid rested her axe against the table leg and sat back down in the chair, glancing at Hiccup briefly before fixing her gaze on the opposite wall.

"Wish I'd thought of showing him the contract. It would've saved us a lot of time and effort." She murmured.

Hiccup didn't know what to say to this, so he just looked at her as his eyelids began to droop. Astrid eventually peeled her gaze away from the wall and looked at him. Neither of them looked away after they caught each other's eyes, which surprised Hiccup.

Why didn't she want Boldolf to know her name and instead be known as Heather? Why did she hate the village leader so much? Where was Night? What had happened while he was unconscious? Who was Brynhild? Why had she been playing with his hair?

From the look that she gave him before he passed out, he could tell that she also had a lot of unanswered questions.

* * *

 **A/N ~ H** **ello, all!**

 **Big thanks to BrawlerGamer for giving me the idea of the contract proving Hiccup's innocence. It was a really good idea and definitely helpful.**

 **Also, I forgot to give the definition of Boldolf's name in the last chapter, so here it is:**

 _Bodolf: Wolf leader_

 **Yeah so it's actually Bodolf but for some reason I never remember to spell it correctly so we're sticking with Boldolf unless I can be bothered to go back and change it.**

 **If this chapter seems really insta-romancy, it's because Astrid basically fell in love with Hiccup the second he woke up in my terrible first draft and that kind of bleeds into this chapter. Hopefully it's not as in-your-face and stupid in this draft.**

 **Also, if Gothi and Astrid seem rather "yes your highness when you say jump we say how high!" in this chapter, it's because Hiccup is about as able to do things for himself as a new-born baby at the moment and they recognise that he's obviously going to need a bit of help.**

 **I feel like this chapter has quite a few flaws, so if you notice something, please don't hesitate to let me know!**

 **As always, thanks for reading! I'll see you when I see you! ;)**

 _ **Edit: Yes, this did have a lot of mistakes. Ugh. XD**_

 _ **Thank you Lilith Jae for helping me to correct a plot hole in this chapter!**_


	12. Chapter Twelve - Inches

**AN ~ I'm going to say it now so that everybody who read chapter 11 before I made the corrections knows: Nobody knows Astrid's real name except Hiccup. That was a massive mistake on my part that I'm going to blame on the story not being pre-written, even though it was mostly me being rushed and stupid. So, sorry if that confused you and thank you to the people who helped me to correct my mistake. On with the chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve: Inches**

OoOoO

Astrid's stomach was warm from the food she had recently consumed but her mind was far from satiated. She was sat on the end of the table by Hiccup's feet, playing vigil ***** once again and desperately trying to distract herself from the worries that plagued her mind. It wasn't working. She played with the handle of her axe, her hair and clothes alternatively but the constant fiddling did nothing to stifle her anxieties. If anything, it made things worse.

Fear for Storm's safety dogged her every thought. What little trust she had for Brynhild had vanished after the woman had sold Hiccup out to Boldolf, but it was to her that Astrid had entrusted the safety of the horses. Until that morning, there was nothing that she could have done about these fears with Hiccup's condition uncertain. But now that he was far from death's door, she realised that she had a perfect opportunity to see if her animal companion was safe.

Gothi was knitting by the fireplace, trusting Astrid to keep an eye on Hiccup while she performed her task. Astrid slipped her axe into the sling and stood, brushing invisible dust off her leggings before walking over and tapping the woman on the shoulder.

"I need to check on our horses. How do I get to the stables?"

Sighing, Gothi dropped her knitting and picked up the slate. _There are two in the village. They will probably be in the nearest one. Take a right when you walk out the house. Walk ten houses down the street, go through the alley opposite you, turn right, you'll see the building. If they're not there, return and I'll direct you to the other one._

"Thank you."

Gothi nodded and went back to her knitting.

Astrid rifled around in her bag for a smaller weapon to hide about her person. In a strange place filled with potentially hostile Vikings, she wanted to be prepared. She considered her sword, bola, bow and quiver and hunting knife, eventually choosing the blood-caked blade and slipping it underneath her belt. She lamented over her dagger, which had been lost in their confrontation with the Night Fury, but quickly pushed the thought aside. It was stupid to longer after material things, even if she didn't have many of them.

Pulling up her hood and tucking her braid down her back, Astrid opened the front door cautiously and stepped outside. The midday sunlight made her eyes ache after so long in a gloomy little hut but she forced herself not to shield them as she looked left and right for any signs of danger. Nobody paid her any mind – obviously, strangers were not an uncommon sight - and she couldn't see a single soldier or beefy village leader in sight. Steadying herself with a deep breath, she stepped out into the street, reeling off Gothi's directions in her mind as she did.

After five minutes of constant fear and a wrong turn, Astrid caught sight of a long building that she immediately knew to be a stable. Several horses poked their heads out of the open windows, calling to their neighbours and owners, but she spotted no dappled mares or black stallions. Desperation to see her horse winning out over caution, Astrid darted inside the nearest open door, narrowly avoiding colliding with a tiny man with wiry grey hair in her hurry. Thankfully, the man did nothing more than grumble angrily at her stomach, not even pausing to look at her before he went on his way. Astrid took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief and adjust her hood before continuing.

The interior of the stables was dark, musty and filled with the familiar scent of horse crap. Thankfully, there wasn't a person in sight. Astrid walked nearly the entire length of the stables, looking inside each stall and feeling her stomach tighten with disappointment when she saw that none of them held her beloved Storm.

Finally, she reached the stall the second from the end. He must've caught Hiccup's, or maybe he just recognised her, because Night immediately stuck his head out of the stall with an excited whinny and butted her shoulder when she reached him.

"Hey, boy." She muttered, scratching his long nose absently. "Glad to see you're okay. Missing Hiccup, are you?"

Night seemed to nod, causing Astrid to laugh softly. The horse was happy and seemed to be in good condition. Somebody had definitely been taking care of him, which she was glad for.

After a brief fussing, she gave the stallion's velvety nose a final rub and continued to the last stall, a smile forcing itself onto her face at the prospect of seeing her mare again.

Sure enough, Storm was in the final stall - but she wasn't alone. Standing at her mare's head, rubbing the special spot behind her ears, was Brynhild.

"What do you think you're doing?" Astrid demanded, mentally debating over whether she should grab her axe or the knife in her boot first.

"Taking care of your horse, like you asked." The woman replied smoothly.

"Get away from her!"

Raising her empty hands mockingly, the brown-haired woman stepped away. Astrid yanked open the stall door and ran over to Storm, who nickered happily upon seeing her, and checked her over for any damage. Upon finding none, she turned back to Brynhild.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing except take care of her like you wanted me to." Brynhild replied, her waist-length braid swinging as she crossed her arms.

"Likely story." Astrid snorted. "As if I would trust anything that comes out of your mouth after you sold Hiccup out to that mutton-head."

At the mention of Boldolf, Brynhild's posture tensed and her arms dropped to her sides. She worried her lip, just like Astrid did when she was troubled.

"As if a girl like you – young, beautiful, free to do as you will - would understand." She muttered eventually, glaring at the cobbled floor.

"What's so hard to understand? Seems pretty simple to me."

Brynhild's hands balled into fists. When she spoke, each word was slow and laced with anger. "My husband isn't an easy man to keep secrets from. Like I said: you wouldn't understand."

Astrid felt her mouth fall open but made no attempt to close it. "You _married_ that man?"

"To keep my village safe from his family."

" _Your_ village?"

"We all have to make hard choices. I'm sorry for the one that I made to tell my husband about the prince. It was cowardly of me to give in to him."

"Yes, it was." Astrid retorted. "You could've caused the death of the only man that can rule us fairly. A good man." She sighed deeply, trying to quell her rising voice for fear of being caught. "Leave, please. I'll care for the horses myself from now on."

For a moment, they stared at one another. Astrid realised that Boldolf's wife couldn't really be older than twenty-five, whereas Boldolf looked about fifty. Eventually, Brynhild turned on her heel and strode out of the stall with her fists still clenched.

"Hey." Astrid said, loudly enough for the other woman to hear. Brynhild hesitated before turning to face her once again.

"For your troubles." The blonde muttered, tossing the brunette a silver coin.

Brynhild caught the piece and, without even biting it, shoved it into the pocket of her scratchy brown dress. Then, she was gone.

OoOoO

Hiccup awoke as the early light of a new day was streaming through the tiny windows of Gothi's hut. The healer herself was ruining a ball of yarn with her knitting needles and put it down in order to help him sit up. Hiccup had eaten a helping of porridge and downed a mug of water by the time Astrid had entered the room.

"Do you want to come feed the horses with me?" she asked casually, pouring her own bowl. "I'm assuming you want to see Night."

"Yeah." Hiccup replied, turning to Gothi for permission. The old woman picked up the slate and started scribbling.

 _It would be good for you to stretch your legs if you wish to leave in a week. You must take the route through the forest. It will take longer to get there but lessens the chance that you will be seen. There is no path and the trees are thick so most people just pass through the village. Head left when you leave the house, walk past the entire row of houses, turn left, walk forward until you reach the street containing the stables._

The amount that she had to write left Gothi nursing her hand afterwards.

After breakfast and a final once-over from the healer, the pair donned their hoods and left through the back door. Hiccup took his sword, just as a precaution, and Astrid her axe and knife.

"Gothi wasn't lying about the trees." Hiccup commented as Astrid closed the door behind him. The forest around them was dark due to the thick blanket of branches and leaves above them and the trees were so close that it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Hiccup could already tell that reaching the stables would be difficult.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, clambering over roots and fallen logs and squeezing through tightly packed foliage. Hiccup was struggling. The only exercise that he had undertaken in the past two days was walking the short distance to the toilet and the sudden action was taking a toll on his healing body. His head was foggy and dizzy, his back was throbbing painfully, his breathing was heavy and his limbs felt like jelly, but he was determined to escape the dank confines of Gothi's hut and see his horse. He did his best to hide his struggle from Astrid, even though he remembered how badly that had gone for him the first time.

Eventually, he decided to break the heavy silence.

"Why don't you want anybody to know your real name?" he panted, freeing one of the burning questions that had been bothering him since they first came into existence.

Astrid stopped walking and turned to face him, frowning curiously. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because you owe me an idle chit chat."

He swore he saw a smile flicker across her lips, although it was hard to tell in the early morning gloom.

"I don't trust anybody in this village." She replied, scowling as she did. He guessed she was thinking of Boldolf. "Except maybe Gothi, but she doesn't seem very interested in knowing. I guess that's why I trust her."

"Is Astrid you real name, then?" For some reason, he really wanted the answer to be yes.

After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"Why did you tell me?"

She took even longer to reply this time. "Because I trusted your father – he was a good man and a good king. The apple doesn't seem to have fallen far from the tree."

She definitely smiled that time. For some reason, Hiccup felt his heart leap.

They returned to walking in silence. Astrid leapt over a particularly large fallen log with the grace of a gazelle and waited patiently for him on the other side. Just as Hiccup clambered onto it with significantly less finesse, Astrid asked her own question.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why didn't you tell Boldolf that it was the Night Fury who saved you?"

 _You saved me, too._

"I needed to make the story convincing. Who would've believed that two people had met a Night Fury and survived?"

It was the truth, just not the entire truth.

Astrid nodded and began to turn away from him. Hiccup lifted his foot, preparing to step off the log, but caught the heavy limb on a jagged branch and stumbled forward with a yelp. He closed his eyes, preparing to collide with the ground… again.

The impact never came. Strong arms immediately wrapped around his, steadying him so that he could step to the ground. Astrid had grabbed him just in time.

Hiccup raised his head, chuckling at his own incompetence, and found himself mere inches away from Astrid's face. From the infinitesimal ***** distance between them, he could see the lightest flecks of colour in her azure eyes and the faintest freckles on her cheeks.

She was shorter than him by half a head.

She was beautiful.

She was close enough for him to close the gap and kiss her.

"You alright?" she asked, her voice surprisingly quiet. And she wasn't moving away.

"Yeah."

They both blinked - and the moment was broken.

"Watch out next time." She muttered, letting go of him when he had righted himself and kneeling to pick up her axe. She must've dropped her precious weapon in order to catch him.

Hiccup mentally kicked himself. Why did he even let the thought of kissing her cross his mind? It was the dumbest thing he had ever thought of, including the time he had decided that challenging Snotlout to a wrestle over the last cupcake was a good idea.

 _She's my protector. I'm the prince. Don't be an idiot._

"Thank you." He said to her back, glad that she couldn't see the blush burning his cheeks.

"Don't mention it."

* * *

They walked in silence for the rest of the journey, which took ten minutes due to how dense the forestry was. Checking that the coast was clear, they followed Gothi's instructions and reached the stables without anybody looking at them twice. Astrid poked her head around the door and, after telling him that there was nobody inside, walked in and made a beeline for her mare's stall.

Hiccup opened the door to Night's stall and was nearly bowled over in his stallion's enthusiasm.

"Hey, bud! Miss me?" he chuckled, patting the horse's neck.

After a few minutes of fussing over the stallion, Hiccup noticed that his food bowl was empty. "Is there any food in here? I forgot to bring mine."

"Yeah, in a shed around the back. I'll go get some."

Hiccup heard her close the stable door, her footsteps echoing away.

"That's stealing!" he shouted, fumbling with the door. "Astrid!"

He threw open the door of Night's stall –

\- Just as a small man with wiry grey hair walked out of the stall two down from Night's.

It was too late to hide in Night's stall – he had seen the man just as the man had seen him.

Eyes wide, the man raised his arm and pointed a bony finger at the prince.

"It's you! Prince Hiccup!"

* * *

 **A/N ~ OH MY GOD I JUST EDITED THIS CHAPTER AND MY INTERNET CRASHED I'VE LOST THE MAJORITY OF THE EDIT FSGGDJFDGNsFSjNsjfsjfnsjNV. (It's okay, I re-edited it, but _gods_ that was annoying!)**

 **Hello, all!**

 **Hopefully, I gave a few of you the feels with that Hiccstrid scene. It was certainly fun to write!**

 **What do you guys think of Brynhild now? How do you think the grey-haired man will react? I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **H's recovery may seem a little fast, but if this boy can wake up from a coma and fly on the fastest dragon alive a few seconds later, he can go for a stroll in the woods. Also, I really wanted to write the cute Hiccstrid scene into this chapter.**

 ***I learned the word "vigil" from Word Cookies (yes, I still play it) and it was a great word to use for this story so I would appreciate it if you could applaud my widened vocabulary. *claps myself***

 ***Sanders Sides, anybody?**

 **As always, thank you so damn much for reading! I'll see you when I see you!**


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Scream

**Chapter Thirteen: Scream**

Hiccup knew that he needed to take control of the situation.

"Be quiet!" he hissed, hiding a wince as he drew his sword. "Be quiet! My accomplice is nearby and they will be the first to arrive if you so much as raise your voice."

Slowly, the man's arm (which had been raised to point at Hiccup) dropped to his side, a move that posed no threat to the prince as he wasn't carrying a weapon of any kind. He surveyed Hiccup with a frown but didn't scream, thank the gods. Hiccup breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly, resting the flat of his sword against his leg so that he could draw it swiftly if necessary.

He realised that he needed to explain himself before the situation became perilous. "You may think that I'm a wanted criminal, but I'm not – well, I may be wanted, but I'm not a criminal and I'm certainly not a murderer. My uncle…" he swallowed heavily, blinking back tears as the memories returned. "My uncle held the sword that ended my father, not me, and I'm fleeing from him for my life."

The man's eyes widened as he took it all in. He looked Hiccup up and down, his eyebrows knitting into a frown. Then, he said something so unexpected that Hiccup's guard momentarily dropped.

"Are you planning on returning to reclaim the throne?"

Hiccup quickly regained his composure. "Yes, yes I am. When I have reached my allies, I will enlist their help and return to confront my uncle."

The man continued to frown at Hiccup, as if he was pondering what he was saying. Eventually, he nodded. "Very well, your highness. My name is Endre Welch, and I am at your service." He held his hand out for Hiccup to shake.

Hiccup, as a prince, was familiar with those who sought alliances with those with power in the hope that they would gain something from them. Clearly, Endre was of a similar mould. Even though he had always disliked such people, Hiccup sheathed his sword and shook the man's hand firmly.

Just as he released Endre's wrinkled paw, Hiccup heard approaching footsteps. Before he could assume that they belonged to a foe, he heard Astrid's voice.

"I nearly got caught by a little boy, sorry it took so-"

Astrid entered the stable right in the middle of her sentence and the burlap sack of feed in her arms dropped to the floor with a dull thud the second she caught sight of Endre. Faster than Hiccup could blink, she had drawn her axe and was advancing towards the man with a malicious look in her eyes.

"Astrid! Wait, wait, wait!" he cried, jumping between them with his arms at shoulder level. "It's okay! He's on our side!"

Astrid faltered, her axe dropping to her side. Hiccup cocked his head and, with a sigh, she placed her weapon back in the sling. Just as Hiccup thought he could relax, she grabbed the knife sticking out of her boot and began to twirl it in her hand, fixing a frown on the stranger.

With a tense sigh, Hiccup turned back to Endre, hoping that Astrid's reaction hadn't scared him into changing his mind. He was surprised to see that the man's grey eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he looked at the warrior and that his hands were shaking.

He couldn't be... _attracted_ to her, could he?

"Um… Endre?"

The tiny man broke out of his trance with a blink and shake of his head. He turned back to Hiccup, smiling politely, although there was something new in his eyes that the prince couldn't quiet discern.

"My apologies, your highness. Your young friend caught me quite off guard."

He was definitely attracted to her.

The middle-aged man cleared his throat. "Where do these allies of yours live, your highness? I know these woods like my own beard – even more, perhaps, than you yourself, if I may be so bold – and I may be able to enlighten you as to which is the safest path to your destination."

Hiccup looked the man up and down. His smile was small, respectful and his hands clasped behind his back cordially. His obvious desire to get into Hiccup's good books and, Hel, even his possible attraction to Astrid lead the Viking prince to believe that he could be a useful ally. Even if he told anybody where they were headed, Hiccup remembered the Ingreman estate to be well and richly guarded – it was only the journey in which he was vulnerable, not the destination, meaning that Endre knowing where he was going could not put him in any danger. Besides, they would need all the help they could get.

Decided, Hiccup opened his mouth to speak – and felt a small stab of pain in his right hand. He looked down and saw Astrid's calloused fingers gripping at the skin of his hand, pinching hard. When Hiccup goggled at her, she subtly shook her head.

After a moment of shock, Hiccup wrenched his hand away, stifling a groan of pain as the movement sent ripples of pain down his back. The pain served as a reminder. He was sick of feeling useless. "To the Ingreman estate, just past the centre of the island. Do you know of it?"

Endre grinned widely, his eyes lighting up. "That I do, your highness. They're well known traders throughout the kingdom. It is wise for you to seek their help. Only..."

"What is it?" Hiccup asked, a jolt of panic turning his insides.

Endre shook his head. "I hope you know, your highness, that there is a patch of dragon territory right in the centre of the island. The demons that live there are uncommonly vicious. Knocked down in raids, separated from their queen, stranded and starving – they'd do anything for meat. They've been dying out because men have discovered their habitats and hunted them down, but many of them still remain. I would suggest going around their territories and keeping to the road. The second you see a broken branch or charred tree, turn back. It would take you longer to get there but it would be better to be safe than sorry."

Hiccup nodded. "Thank you, Endre."

"Are those your horses?" the man asked, a little off topic, pointing to Night and Storm. "They're mighty fine animals."

"Thank you. Yes, they're ours. The black one's mine and the grey one belongs to… Heather."

"Hmm… well, that one's mine." He pointed to a nearby stall, which held a dun pony with a flaxen mane. "She's getting on in her years, but she's a fine beast."

"She's lovely." Hiccup commented, out of politeness more than anything. The pony was extremely ugly.

Endre turned his gaze back to Hiccup and Astrid's horses, Storm receiving significantly more attention, before clapping his hands together.

"Well, I must be getting on, your highness. I have a busy day ahead me. It was a great honour to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for your assistance. Oh, I almost forgot - please don't tell anybody about our meeting. It is crucial that news of my location does not reach my uncle."

Endre smiled, although it didn't quite seem to reach his eyes. "Fear not, your highness. I no longer have anybody to tell."

Then, with a final bow and lingering glance at Astrid, he walked out into the sunlight.

Hiccup, filled with a surge of empathy for the man, turned to Astrid. His hand still hurt from where she had pinched him, but he tried to add some humour to the situation as he considered her heavy scowl.

"I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, but he's a little old for you, I think."

Astrid, instead of laughing or even smiling, sneered in anger, turned on her heel, picked up the bag of feed and strode into Storm's stall. Hiccup followed her, intent on proving his point.

"You can see why I needed to tell him, Astrid. His information has possibly saved our lives. We need all the help we can get."

Astrid began to pour the food into Storm's trough, not even glancing at him as she spoke. "The more people who know about _you_ and where _you're_ going, the more danger _you're_ in. And here I was thinking that you had a decent head on your shoulders." He heard her snort derisively. "Forget about it. The damage is done. Besides, I'm not being paid to give my opinion."

Unable to think of a counter-argument, Hiccup grabbed the feed bag from her and strode into Night's stall. He petted the stallion as he ate, unable to deny how much Astrid implying his solidarity had hurt for him. Because she was right, wasn't she?

He had no one.

Desperate not to think about it, Hiccup turned his mind over to their interaction with Endre. He quickly convinced himself that he had done the right thing by telling the man where they were going – he had no knowledge of the downed dragons in the centre of the island and they probably would've walked right into them if Endre hadn't been able to warn them.

A few minutes later, in which no more people entered the stable, the two said a final goodbye to their animals and unanimously decided that it was time to leave. There were several people milling around the street but none of them paid mind to the two young adults who darted out of the stables and into the forest.

The journey back to Gothi's house was silent and uneventful. Astrid took the lead, her hands balled into fists as she leapt over each log and tree root, and Hiccup maintained a steady pace behind her as he worked through the pain wracking both his mind and body. He didn't fall again, which was lucky as he was sure that Astrid would be too far away and too resentful to catch him.

As soon as they entered Gothi's hut, Astrid down in the chair by the fire while the healer sat Hiccup down on the table and jumped on it behind him so that she could tend to his back. Hiccup pulled of his shirt, as reluctantly as he always did, and stared into the fire while his back was cleaned and anointed. After a few minutes of sitting as stiffly as a china doll, Astrid took out a whetstone and began to sharpen her axe. Even though she seemed absorbed in her task, he swore he saw her glance at him, just once, before he put his shirt back on.

The rest of the morning passed in silence, with neither Hiccup or Astrid willing to initiate conversation and Gothi too lazy to pick up her slate. Hiccup, with nothing to do except think horrible thoughts, eventually decided to nap away the rest of the day. He awoke when the sun had set – not because he wanted to, but because Gothi was attacking his arm with her staff.

"What?" he demanded, rubbing his eyes groggily. Doing so reminded him painfully of how his father had roused him on the night of his death.

In answer, Gothi placed a bowl of soup on the table next to him and returned to the chair by the fire, which Astrid was no longer occupying. She was now sitting on the floor by the door, twisting her newly polished and sharpened axe in her hands. Her position certainly appeared uncomfortable. Hiccup was going to ask her to sit on the table with him when he remembered that they were supposed to be mad at each other.

He ate his soup quietly, not understanding why his gaze kept being drawn to her. Once his bowl was scraped clean, Gothi took it to be washed up. Going against his instincts of allowing others to care for his every need, Hiccup offered to do it for her in an attempt to repay her for her kindness. The old woman readily accepted with a tired nod. Hiccup knew for sure that Astrid looked at him more than once while he was on his hands and knees in front of a large wooden tub and submerged from his hands to his elbows in soapy water.

After the three bowls were clean, Gothi informed them through slate that she was going to bed. She tottered out of the room, leaving Hiccup and Astrid alone together.

Hiccup didn't know what came over him, but he suddenly heard himself speaking. "I don't think I was wrong to trust Endre, but I'm sorry that I didn't take your opinion into account. You may not be paid to give it, but it does matter to me.

Astrid seemed to either have not heard or ignored him as she began to run her finger up and down the curve of her axe. Hiccup sighed quietly after a moment and turned away from her.

"I think you were wrong to tell him, but… I'm sorry if I hurt your hand when I pinched it. And thank you."

Hiccup stopped in his tracks and turned around, automatically taking a step closer to her and considering her face. Astrid was still staring at her reflection in the polished metal surface of her weapon but he could see a ghost of a smile on her lips through the thick locks of hair framing her face.

He looked at his right hand, not needing to go through the pain of lifting it to see the faint bruise discolouring a small patch of his freckled skin.

"It's okay – but next time you feel like holding my hand, try to be a bit gentler."

Hiccup felt the blood rush to his cheeks the second the words left his lips. Did he just accidentally flirt with Astrid Hofferson? He hadn't meant to.

Whatever he had done, it seemed to do the trick; Astrid chuckled lightly, finally looking up at him.

"I'll take that on board."

They both laughed quietly, albeit awkwardly. Hiccup looked down at her face, still standing several paces away from her but no longer feeling the substantial distance.

What in Thor's name was going on? First the stupid thoughts of kissing her, now the sort-of-flirting. What was up with him? He hadn't been himself since the moment he woke up on Gothi's table.

But, to be fair, Astrid had been acting equally strangely.

"Astrid-"

She sharply raised her hand to silence him, effectively cutting him off. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Shh!"

Hiccup listened for a moment, hearing nothing, until his ears detected the distant thud of hooves against dirt.

"It's probably just a traveller arriving late. Nothing to worry abou-"

Hiccup's desperate explanation was drowned out by a sound that made his blood run cold: the distant, desperate scream of somebody in danger.

Both of them tensed, their limbs turning to ice. Neither said anything, but their minds both jumped to the same conclusion.

The soldiers had found them.

Before Hiccup even knew what he was doing, he had grabbed his sword and was sprinting out of the door.

* * *

 **The fluff at the end was just filler to hit the word count so I hope it turned out okay. I thought the whole chapter was a bit rubbish, if I'm honest - blame it on writer's block. But I'd still like to hear your thoughts!**


	14. Chapter Fourteen - Pandemonium

**Gore incoming. You have been warned.**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen: Pandemonium**

Hiccup didn't hear Astrid call his name, didn't see the frightened faces of the people he ran past, didn't feel the pain in his back or the weight of the sheathed sword in his hands. His every thought was consumed by the scream that echoed through his head like a mantra. Whoever the person that had made that noise was, wherever they were, whatever danger they were in, he had to help them. He had to.

He ran across Gothi's street and through an alleyway, neither knowing or caring where he was going or how he would find his way back to Gothi's hut. He followed the sound of the scream. People noticed him as he ran past – how could they miss lanky teen running _towards_ the danger instead of _away?_ – but he didn't heed their calls and warnings. All he did was run.

After what felt like forever, Hiccup reached a large street and saw, to his horror, what the source of the scream was.

Soldiers - too many to count - clothed in green, brown and gold and bearing his uncle's insignia stood out among the villagers and travellers fighting over one another to reach the end of the street. Some stood near the centre, holding the reins of several horses and looking around them with small smirks on their faces. One man (clearly some kind of commander) was situated in the centre, standing on an overturned crate and reading from a large scroll in a tone that clearly conveyed his desire to be doing literally anything else. The majority of his speech was drowned out by his comrades, who were going door to door, kicking them down and racing inside with their swords drawn. The night was alive with their demands.

"Out of my way!"

"Where is he?"

"Are you hiding him?"

"Where is the prince?"

Men and women ran from their homes in their nightclothes, clutching babies to their chests and holding the hands of frightened children. They were like ants fleeing their nest, struggling and screaming and practically knocking their friends and neighbours aside as they fought for survival.

In the chaos surrounding him on all sides, it was impossible for Hiccup to tell who had released the scream that had drawn him to the scene. He looked around wildly, wanting to help but not knowing how. Precious seconds were wasted until his jade eyes locked onto a young woman who couldn't be more than a few years older than him. She was struggling against a gigantic soldier who was holding both of her hands behind her back with one meaty fist and pressing a sword against her neck with the other. Beads of blood sprung up beneath the glimmering blade as she struggled. The woman was trying to reach two children who were being dragged away from her by their arms and hair, kicking and screaming and sobbing. A third soldier was searching through a nearby house that was presumably hers while the other two watched on, laughing.

Fury turned Hiccup's blood to fire. He ran, pushing past fleeing villagers and drawing his sword with an aching left hand. His weapon called for blood.

But he couldn't kill them. He wouldn't.

He reached the man holding the woman first, coming up from behind so he wouldn't see him coming. Noticing the man's stance, he grabbed his meaty shoulders and kicked him as hard as he could between the legs, knowing from his fights with Snotlout just how much it hurt. It worked: the man dropped his sword with a bellow and the woman bit his hand savagely until he let her go with another yell.

The second soldier, who was holding the children, threw them to the ground when he saw Hiccup and what he had done to his fellow soldier. The young woman darted forward and, without looking back at Hiccup, grabbed the boy and girl and ran after her fleeing neighbours.

"Your highness." The second soldier said, bowing his head mockingly. Before Hiccup could react, he cupped his hands to his mouth. "HE'S OVER-"

 _Clang!_

Before he could manage to get the attention of his comrades, the man's eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground in a dead faint. His fall revealed Astrid, who was stood behind him with a raised axe and wide eyes.

"Thanks." Hiccup breathed, surprised at how relieved he was to see her.

"Don't mention it."

At the sound of metal against metal, the third soldier emerged. This time, both Hiccup and Astrid acted. Hiccup, who was nearer, leapt forward and kicked him in the stomach before the man could even brandish his sword, gasping in agony as the movement sent a spike of pain across his back but managing to keep the agony at bay. The man stumbled back into the wall of the house and Astrid shoved his head backwards when he rebounded. He slid to the ground with a surprised grunt, immediately falling unconscious and joining his comrade in the dust.

The first soldier, who was nursing both a bruised groin and bleeding hand, didn't even try to defend himself when Astrid reused her first move and knocked him out with her axe.

"Come on." Astrid demanded the second all present threats were alleviated, stepping over the three unresponding bodies and looking around with fearful eyes. "We have to get our things from Gothi's hut and leave."

"What? No, we can't leave, we have to help!"

Hiccup looked around wildly for a new target as he spoke, spotting skinny but muscular soldier holding the horses and tripping up fleeing villagers with a smirk on his face. Hiccup's entire body tensed as he witnessed him stick his foot out in front of a white-haired man, sending the elder and his grandson to the ground with a fearful cry. Gritting his teeth, Hiccup advanced towards them.

"Hiccup, no!" Astrid cried, her hand closing around his upper arm. He endured a small prickle of pain, growing when she tugged at the limb, and gritted his teeth.

"We have to help them, Astrid. We can't just leave them to die like... like cowards!"

 _Not again._

Astrid seemed have not listened or heard as she tugged his hood up over his eyes, momentarily blocking his vision with the dark green fabric.

"Don't you hear what that guy's saying?" She demanded hurriedly, tugging up her own hood. She pointed towards the guy who was stood on the crate and reading from the scroll. "He says that if you're found here, the entire town will be destroyed, along with everybody occupying it, for treason. If you go running around killing soldiers, you may save a couple people now, but the rest will die when you're captured and taken to your uncle. And if you die here, your uncle will rule Berk – is that what you want?"

Feeling his hunger for blood ebb away, Hiccup sheathed his sword and tied the scabbard to his belt with a defeated sigh. He knew that she was right, but self-loathing coursed through him nonetheless. "Okay."

 _I'm sorry, Dad._

Astrid nodded and, without sheathing her axe, shifted her hand down his arm to his wrist.

Luckily, the soldiers were too fixated on tormenting the villagers to have noticed them already. The pair looked around, noticing that they were still lost in the throng of the crowd, and raced towards the alley that Hiccup had run down minutes before to reach the square. Hiccup tensed as they ran, waiting for somebody to recognise him and bellow out his location for the world to hear. Perhaps it was the gods, or maybe just luck, but nobody even spared them a second glance.

Hiccup had no recollection of how he had reached the square but Astrid seemed to know how to get back to Gothi's. As she tugged him along by the wrist, he could hear her muttering "left, right, left, across" under her breath, not pausing once to reassess their surroundings.

They reached Gothi's street within minutes, panting heavily and looking left and right as they lingered in the small alley opposite her home. The street was completely empty, devoid of soldiers and fleeing villagers – or so Hiccup thought. He felt Astrid tense beside him and, following her gaze, saw two soldiers emerge at the opposite end of the street. They immediately got to work, kicking down the doors of the two houses furthest from Gothi's and peering inside, their expressions conveying their boredom. It was clear that they would rather be terrorising the villagers with their comrades.

Astrid squeezed Hiccup's wrist, her only warning, before darting across the street with him in tow. Hiccup grabbed his scabbard and held it away from his right leg, ensuring that it didn't bash against his side and alert the soldiers of their presence. They reached Gothi's hut without being noticed, much to their relief, and tentatively opened the creaky door.

They expected it to be empty, thinking that Gothi would've fled with the villagers. To their shock, they walked in to see the elderly healer running from cupboard to cupboard, retrieving small bottles and bundles of herbs from their depths and hurriedly shoving them into a burlap sack. Her head darted up as the door opened, her hands closing around her staff and raising it into an offensive stance. When she recognised Hiccup and Astrid, she dropped the stick to her side and carried on shoving bottles into the little bag.

"You need to leave, Gothi!" Astrid begged. "The soldiers will be here in a minute at the most. If they find out that you're here – and, more importantly, that you healed and housed Hiccup – then you'll be killed!"

Gothi ignored her. She stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out a scroll of paper, which she tossed into the bag before tying up the top with a piece of rope. Then, she held it out to Astrid.

"Medicine." She croaked, her voice sounding like it hadn't been used in a millennium.

Hiccup gawked at her but Astrid took it all in her stride, nodding determinedly and lifting the bag onto her shoulder with ease. Gothi pointed at the corner, where five bags lay. Astrid and Hiccup scrambled towards them, aware that their time was running out, and grabbed two and three bags respectively so that they were carrying half the load each. The new one, Hiccup guessed correctly, contained food or other useful supplies. Astrid went to pick up her bow and quiver but Hiccup, with her permission, took the quiver and slung it over his head so that he was equally burdened.

Astrid, smiling at him briefly in thanks, turned back to Gothi. "Thank you for everything you've done for us, Gothi. We wouldn't have survived a day in this village without you.

"I'm indebted to you."

"We both are."

Gothi smiled at them. Then, she repeatedly poked the pair in their stomachs with her staff and pointed towards the door.

"Thank you… for saving my life." Hiccup said, knowing that the six pathetic words did nothing to convey his immense gratitude.

Both secretly worrying for the old woman's safety but neither of them wanting to voice it, the prince and his protector reluctantly turned their backs on her and opened the door. Astrid stuck her head out, noticing with a tightening in her stomach that Spitelout's minions were only two doors away and quickly growing closer. Her hand closed around Hiccup's, making him tense. She didn't seem to notice.

"Run straight to the alley when I say." Astrid paused, waiting until both soldiers were occupied with knocking down a door. "Now."

They ran, this time with three heavy bags and numerous weapons greatly restricting their movements. Hiccup found himself in the lead, the lightweight contents of his own saddlebags and longer legs giving him an edge. He didn't let go of Astrid, not wanting her to be left behind.

"Stop!" Hiccup heard a man yell. One of the soldiers.

Rapid footsteps joined his and Astrid's, encouraging Hiccup to run faster still. The two teenagers seemed to be keeping their lead, their fitter bodies and lack of armour making them faster than the bulky soldiers. Just as Hiccup naively thought that their enemies might have given up, he heard Astrid cry out and felt her hand slip out of his grip.

"Astrid!" he cried out instinctively, stopping in his tracks and turning to see what had happened.

He was horrified to see that one of the soldiers had succeeded in grabbing Astrid's right arm, the one that she was using to hold her weapon. She struggled against him, kicking and biting and scratching as she attempted to break his grip, but he was almost twice her size and strength and seemed largely unaffected by her resistance. As she fought, her dagger clattered to the ground and the soldier kicked it away, leaving her defenceless. Making sure that he didn't loosen his grip, the soldier went to grab his sword, clearly hoping to get Astrid out of the way so that he could go after Hiccup without anybody stopping him.

"Keep still, little lady." The man hissed, struggling to keep her in one position for long enough to successfully grab his weapon.

Hiccup frantically attempted to draw his sword but his back was throbbing angrily, making every movement one of agony, and the three bags and quiver that he was carrying kept getting in the way. He knew, with a sinking feeling in his heart, that he wold be no match for the soldier without his weapon.

The other soldier was catching up. They were running out of time.

Astrid, with a scream of effort, tugged her trapped arm so hard that the soldier stumbled forward. To Hiccup's horror, the threat managed to hang on. Giving up on his sword, Hiccup ran towards them, knowing that he had to try and do something. Astrid, noticing this, reached for him with her free hand. Hiccup held out his hands to her, trying to grab her so that he could pull her free, but she batted him aside and went for the quiver slung across his left arm instead. With a pained grunt, she pulled out one of the arrows – the one, Hiccup noted, that had been shot into his back days before – and twisted around before the soldier could even react. Then, with a scream of pain and rage, she raised her arm and stabbed the blood-caked tip into his eye.

The effect was instantaneous. The soldier released her and his weapon with a choked, warbling scream and fell to his knees with a heavy thud that shook Hiccup's entire body. In a fit of blood-induced madness, he began tugging at the shaft of the arrow, an animalistic scream bursting from his lips with each pull. Dark red liquid spurted over his face and ran through his fingers like a scarlet waterfall, trickling into his open mouth, down his clothes ending up in a small puddle by his knees. Hiccup had never seen something so horrific.

"Colden!" the other soldier cried, running to his comrade. He didn't even spare Hiccup or Astrid a glance as he ran over to his wailing friend and tried to pry his fingers away from his destroyed eye socket. The injured soldier just screamed louder, clawing at his friend's face and continuing to tug at the arrow.

Hiccup looked away, his eyes burning. When he heard a sharp popping noise and his ears were filled a scream even more horrific than the last, he felt his stomach turn. Before he could somehow prevent it, he leaned over and heaved up his breakfast and lunch with a painful cough that splattered foul-smelling liquid over his boots. After another wave of vomit, he straightened up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, shaking.

Astrid stumbled over to him, rubbing her wrist where purple bruises were already beginning to form. Her face was pale in the moonlight, her lips parted in shock and her entire body trembling. After a moment of stunned silence, she turned her back on the destruction that she had created and grabbed Hiccup's wrist.

"We have to keep going." Her voice shook with each syllable.

Hiccup nodded slowly, knowing as he let Astrid drag him along the alley that the sight of the soldier and the sound of his blood-curdling scream would forever haunt him.

They ran along the rest of the alley in silence, the distant screams and clattering of hooves filling their ears. In less than a minute, they emerged in the second street.

It was a pandemonium. Unlike the one containing Gothi's hut, which had been mostly empty, the street where the stables were situated was thick with fleeing villagers. Soldiers mounted on horses raced up and down the path, herding the villagers with swords and gleeful laughter. Most of them were gathered at the end, grabbing hold of every tall, lanky and brown-haired boy that they laid their eyes on and tossing them away with an angry growl when they realised that they had not succeeded in capturing the prince. Hiccup was distracted from the scene when he heard a familiar voice.

"They won't do you any harm as long as you keep calm! Run, my people! Run!"

Hiccup craned his head to try and discern the source of the familiar voice and eyes soon landed on Boldolf. The hefty man was stood upon an empty cart, his hands cupped to his mouth as he called out to the fleeing villagers. Hiccup could clearly see that none of those fleeing were paying attention to him, but the soldiers certainly were.

"What are you doing?" one of the soldiers barked, pushing past the fleeing villagers with ease until he reached the village leader.

Boldolf seemed to visibly shrink at the sight of the armed warrior. "N… nothing!"

"Who are you? The leader of these people?"

Boldolf looked at the man, taking in his immense size and stature, and then to his drawn sword. Hiccup saw him visibly gulp at the sight of the naked blade. After a second of tense silence, he acted. Faster than a Terrible Terror, the coward jumped off the cart and began to push his way through the crowd, yelling at the shocked refugees to get out of his way and shoving them aside when they didn't do so fast enough. Hiccup glanced at Astrid, who was still pale and shaking but smiling in spite of herself. Her expression said it all.

They watched Boldolf until he disappeared before snapping back into action. Hiccup, with a nod from Astrid, adjusted his hood and stepped out into the throng. The second they became a part of the crowd, he was bombarded by an onslaught of knees, elbows and broad chests as frantic villagers and travellers fought for survival. Nonetheless, he managed to keep his head down and his hood up. Astrid was separated from him several times when she received a knock to the chest or chin but he always managed to find her in the chaos. Despite the roaring pain in Hiccup's back and heavy feeling of helplessness beginning to settle in his chest, they continued.

After minutes of discomfort and even agony, the crowd surrounding Hiccup and Astrid began to dwindle. With the lack of fleeing Vikings came lack of cover and a fresh feeling of dread in Hiccup's stomach. But, thank the gods, most of the soldiers had shifted to the end of the street and near the road leading to the woods so that they could more effectively cut off the villagers.

Over the horned helmets of the remaining Vikings, Hiccup realised with a relieved smile that the stables were only a few feet away. That very morning, almost every stall had been occupied by a pleasantly curious horse. Now, most of the pens were empty and their doors ajar, giving the entire building an eerily abandoned air. Had the horses been taken by their owners or the soldiers? And what had happened to Night and Storm?

Attempting to quell their dread, Hiccup and Astrid raced towards the nearest door, expecting pursuit and feeling their hearts lift when none came. They entered the stable without confrontation or conflict.

"Come on, dumb animal!" Hiccup heard a voice snarl upon entering the shabby building. He looked around frantically for the source of the voice but his eyes were still adjusting to the gloom, making it nearly impossible to make anything out "Come on!"

Hiccup heard the sharp sound of skin against skin and a horse squealed loudly. Finally, his eyes began to adjust.

The last two stalls, which indeed contained Night and Storm, had been thrown open. A wiry young man was holding onto Night's headcollar, trying and failing to pull the stallion out of his stall while simultaneously attempting to throw a random saddle onto his back. Hiccup noticed that he wasn't wearing a soldier's uniform, which provided a measure of relief.

"Get your hands off my horse!" he barked, succeeding in injecting every once of his pent-up range into his voice. The man balked and turned to face Hiccup, giving Night the perfect opportunity to kick him in the chest. Winded, the man fell to the floor, not even glancing back at Hiccup before scrambling to his feet and racing out of the stable as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Hey, boy!" Hiccup cooed, running over to his horse with Astrid just behind him. "You alright?"

Night butted against Hiccup's shoulder, making the Viking prince laugh. "I'm glad to see you're safe, bud. Let's get out of here."

"Storm!" he heard Astrid whisper, her tone laced with horror.

"What's wrong?" he asked, letting go of Night and stepping into Storm's stall and following Astrid's gaze. "Oh…"

For the second time that night, Hiccup saw blood. Relatively fresh gashes ran down both of Storm's forelegs, shallow and clearly done hurriedly but still long, causing the mare to favour each leg alternately and roll her eyes in fright and pain.

"Where's that man?" Astrid demanded, the edge in her voice making him shudder.

"Who?"

"The man who was trying to steal Night! I know he did this to her! _He hurt her!_ I'll make him pay for what he's done! He'll regret ever laying a finger on my Storm."

"He's gone, Astrid. I'm sorry."

Hiccup yanked one of the bags off his back, hoping that it was the one he had seen Gothi throw her bottles of medicine into. It was. Making sure not to lose Gothi's piece of paper, he rifled through the assortment of herbs and bottles until he found a roll of bandages. Astrid wrapped her arms around her mare's neck and whispered into her ear soothingly as Hiccup wrapped the bandages around the filthy gashes, aware that they were running out of time.

Once he was finished, he gave Storm's neck a reassuring pat and straightened up. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on Astrid's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Astrid, but we have to go."

Astrid scowled, her arms tightening around her mare's neck. "She can't be ridden like this!"

Hiccup hardened his heart, trying not to imagine what he would do if it was Night that had been injured instead of Storm "Either you ride her or leave her behind and ride on Night with me. I'm sorry, but we don't have time to think of a better option."

Astrid squeezed her eyes shut, teeth gritted, before opening them and nodding shakily. "I'm sorry, girl, but I can't leave you to the soldiers." She whispered to her mare, tangling her fingers in her mane. "I won't."

Hiccup nodded in return, scooping the quiver and heavier bags off his back and holding out the bag of his clothes, which was the lightest one he was carrying, to Astrid. "Night can't carry everything. Storm can take my clothes and the food – they're the lightest."

Astrid nodded tersely and they exchanged bags. In the next few minutes, which were mostly consumed with extreme paranoia and sympathy for Astrid and Storm, they managed to get both horses tacked and carrying the bags. Storm was jittery, prancing from foot to foot, but Astrid managed to keep her calm.

They lead the horses to the doors, surveying the scene around them. Hiccup noted in a single sweeping glance that the number of villagers had practically diminished into nothing and that many of the soldiers had seemingly followed. However, there were still at least ten searching the place who, judging by the speed at which they searched the abandoned homes, would certainly reach the stables soon. Time was running out. They had to act.

"I'll go first to draw to attention away from you and Storm." Hiccup said, turning to Astrid.

"Hiccup, no!"

But he was already running for the nearest stable door, his hands gripping either side of Night's saddle as he prepared to swing onto his stallion's back the second he was no longer underneath the low roof.

With a thundering heart, Hiccup emerged into the moonlight. A gust of wind attacked his face as he ran, knocking down his hood and revealing his well-known features to everybody who so much as glanced at him. And glance at him they did.

Gritting his teeth, Hiccup hopped for a second and managed to slip his foot into the stirrup. Then, springing off his right foot and allowing the one in the stirrup to take the majority of his weight, he managed to pull himself onto Night's back without the stallion even needing to slow his stride. The resulting flare of agony originating from his back blackened the edges of his vision and brought tears to the corners of his eyes. He was sure that he felt something tear underneath the bandages. Gritting his teeth, he managed to ignore the familiar agony, as he gathered the reins and sat securely bending over Night's neck just like he had done on the first night.

To his immense relief, he heard the thudding of hooves behind him that confirmed that Astrid and Storm had been able to follow them out of the stable. Moments after this brief sense of comfort surfaced, the near-empty night was filled with shouts and gleeful yells, dispelling all emotions except fear and anxiety. They had, of course, been spotted.

Hiccup pressed his heels into Night's sides, giving the stallion the incentive to greatly increase his speed. He hoped against hope, as his back burned with the memory, that none of the soldiers had bows.

The first arrow whizzed past his ear - close enough for his hair to be brushed aside by the force of the projectile - as the end of the village came into view. Beyond the final houses, he could see the looming oaks of Raven Forest standing out against the night sky, acting as a beacon that lit a spark of hope inside his chest.

It was immediately quelled when he turned around to see Astrid's progress. She was lagging behind significantly, Storm stumbling over every obstacle in her path and nearly sending her rider to the ground several times. Hiccup could see from a distance just how much fresh blood was trickling down the mare's legs. His protector was also taking the brunt of the fire, having to twist around in the saddle to block many of the arrows aimed at Hiccup with the flat of her axe and further upsetting Storm. Hiccup cursed himself for insisting on taking the lead.

 _That should be me._

He tugged on Night's reins, slowing the confused stallion. He didn't know what he could do to help but he couldn't just leave her.

"Keep going, you idiot! It's you they want, not me!" Astrid ordered, twisting around yet again to block another arrow.

Hiccup gritted his teeth but did as she said, turning back in the saddle and digging his heels into Night's sides. The end of the village was coming closer and closer.

 _Hang on, Astrid._

They were only ten houses away. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero.

They were safe! They had escaped! Hiccup allowed joy to flood into his heart as he reined Night in, turning around in the saddle so that he could keep an eye on Astrid as she caught up.

What he saw made his stomach drop. Horses, five, ten, twenty of them, cantered into the street he had just emerged from, effectively cutting him off from the village… and from Astrid, who was still inside. He saw more soldiers file in behind her, effectively trapping her in a circle of danger.

"No!" Hiccup cried, digging his heels into Night's sides and urging him up the hill. "NO!"

He couldn't fail Astrid. He couldn't let her die like he had let his father die. He couldn't lose somebody else.

Night pounded up the incline towards the soldiers at his command, not stopping even as the soldiers drew their swords and pointed them at horse and rider with triumphant smiles. Hiccup only found himself yanking on Night's reins when something caught his eye that shocked him to the core.

A grey-haired man riding an ugly dun pony emerged from behind one of the houses, riding towards the group of soldiers with a triumphant grin on his face. He didn't even glance in Hiccup's direction.

For reasons unbeknownst to Hiccup, the soldiers parted for their inferior like the red sea once he had reached the middle of their group… so that the man, Endre Welch, was face to face with Astrid.

"The prince," Endre sneered, glancing back at a gobsmacked Hiccup with a victorious grin. "And the bitch. The demon. The _murderer_ , cornered at last." He glanced at the soldiers situated on either side of him.

"Shoot her."

* * *

 **A/N ~ Wow, Endre is a bad guy? What a shocker!**

 **I kinda feel bad for the insane cliffhanger and questionable quality of this chapter - sorry about the latter, I was so tired when I wrote it. It's still my favourite so far and hopefully long enough to count as two updates seeing as I probably won't be able to write any more chapters for the next two weeks. So, sorry for leaving you guys with this.**

 **Happy holidays! See you next year! (Heh)**


	15. Chapter Fifteen - Arrow

**Chapter Fifteen: Arrow**

Time seemed to stand still, just like it had in the moments before Stoick the Vast had met his end. Hiccup felt like his chest was being cleaved in two, his heart torn out and ripped to shreds. His ears were filled with his father's final word, his mind with the memory of his blood. In that second, as those arrows aimed, every single bit of agony that had been festering in Hiccup's chest burst free in the form of a single agonised scream that might have been Astrid's name. Without even realising it, he pressed his heels into Night's sides once again and started to draw his sword.

Before the stallion could even step forward, the familiar whistle of an arrow cutting through air filled Hiccup's ears. The dull thud of the projectile embedding into flesh followed moments later.

Hiccup's stomach wrenched like it would've done if somebody had stuck a knife in there and twisted hard. His eyes darted up, locking onto Astrid and expecting to see the shaft of an arrow producing from her limp body.

To his astonishment and relief, she was utterly unharmed, her eyes wide with shock and locked onto the soldier nearest to her. The man was slumped forward, an arrow producing from the bloody fingers clutching at his neck. His death had been silent, giving him no time to even cry out or beg his gods for mercy. Blood dripped down his front and onto the flank of his frightened steed, who bolted at the first drop.

Even though the sight of another death disturbed him greatly, Hiccup felt his entire body relax in relief. It wasn't Astrid. He hadn't lost somebody else.

Moments after the arrow had found its target, the entire scene erupted in chaos. The soldiers looked around, eyes wide with confusion and fright as they sought the source of enemy fire. Endre, a second behind, also realised that his target had not been euphemised. His eyes immediately went to the bow and quiver of the soldier next to him but he made no move to grab it. Instead, his eyes began to search around desperately for a way of escape.

Moments before the group of soldiers stirred themselves into action, the source of the arrow was revealed by an angry cry that tore through the night.

" _We will reclaim our homes!"_ the voice bellowed, distinctly female and full of rage.

The cry came from somewhere to Hiccup's left. He couldn't see what was going on, his view blocked by the houses, but Astrid, Endre and the soldiers certainly did. The warrior's expression of shock morphed into one of relief and happiness; Endre and the soldiers' mouths fell open in horror.

Once again, the thundering of hooves filled Hiccup's ears. Then, seconds later, the source of the cry emerged.

OoOoO

There was no mistaking the tight brown braid or furious expression: it was Brynhild leading the charge. The woman's long brown braid billowed out behind her like a flag of surrender - although the villager's expression clearly showed that she had no intention of doing so - and she brandished a sword in her right hand, clutching her horse's reins with her left. Behind her, men and women on foot and horseback charged, carrying weapons ranging from pitchforks to bows to axes but each equally deadly in their bloodthirsty owner's hands. One member of the company was Gothi, running at a speed that seemed impossible for her tiny body and brandishing her staff with a vengeful grin. Astrid's heart leapt at the sight of her.

Seconds before the villagers reached the soldiers, Astrid's mind snapped back into action. She yanked on Storm's reins with a force that pulled her out of the way of the approaching onslaught, tearing at the mare's mouth as she did so. Her chest ached with regret, but she knew that her actions were necessary if they were going to survive the night.

Moments after they were clear of the crossfire, the villagers were upon the soldiers. Pitchforks broke through chainmail and embedded in horse's flanks; swords clashed with swords, sending metallic clangs echoing throughout the night; arrows embedded into flesh; Gothi began to bash a soldier around the head with her staff; and the cries of both the soldiers and the villagers echoed in Astrid's ears. In the chaos, everybody seemed to have forgotten about her and even Hiccup – which gave them the chance to escape. Even Endre, the man who had ordered her death, was nowhere to be seen.

Astrid did not recognise the man by his face or forename, but his words of hatred towards her were already beginning to recall memories that she had sworn to forget. There was no time to dwell on it now – they needed to escape.

Craning her neck, Astrid managed to catch a glimpse of Hiccup through the chaos. The prince's emerald eyes were wide as he surveyed the conflict before him, clearly at a loss over what to do. His sword was half out of its scabbard but hanging limply at his side and not about to be put to use. She had to reach him before one of the soldiers remembered their former task and captured or killed him.

"I'm sorry, girl." She whispered, placing a hand on Storm's neck in a way that she hoped was reassuring.

Storm snorted, almost as if she was accepting her apology. With a weak smile, Astrid pressed her heels to the horse's sides and brandished her axe, leaping into the fray.

Felled bodies of both soldiers and villagers softened the ground beneath Storm's hooves. The mare stumbled, squealing and bucking to avoid the blades and arrows of both friend and foe. Astrid used her axe to cut through those in her path and deflect arrows and blades that came too close to her and Storm, but some managed to get through. An arrow grazed her right arm, tearing through the fabric of her thick jacket and slicing away the top layer of skin; a sword caught Storm's rear, causing the mare to buck and squeal with a force that nearly threw Astrid to the ground; and a sword, raised to strike down a villager, caught Astrid's face, cutting through her eyebrow and over her cheekbone. She was extremely lucky that it had missed her eye. When she used her sleeve to try and wipe away the steady stream of blood, the fabric came back stained black and a fresh stream soon trickled into her eye once again, rendering her half blind.

After a few seconds of dodging, attacking, deflecting and bearing pain, Astrid caught sight of Hiccup on the other side of the fray. It seemed that the prince had finally come to his senses: he had immersed himself in the edge of the fray, finding weak spots in armour and exploiting these flaws in order to take his enemies down. The wounds that he created were enough to incapacitate, not kill, and each blow left him wincing from sympathy as well as pain. He and his horse had also amassed their fair share of cuts, but not enough to greatly hinder either of them.

Astrid turned her attention back to the chaos surrounding her just in time to see a soldier, one of the few that had managed to keep his position atop his horse, riding towards her with an outstretched axe similar to the one in her shaking right hand. Hiccup had distracted her, if only for a moment. Cursing herself, she raised her weapon, knowing even as she did that it would be too little too late to put it to use. He was seconds from reaching her, his lips curling into a grin when the same thought crossed his mind.

Suddenly, he stiffened and dropped his weapon, the immediate change in movement drawing his horse to an abrupt halt. The nameless man looked down with wide eyes. When his pale grey gaze locked onto the bloody sword producing from his stomach, he let out a little "oh" of surprise before his entire body went limp and he fell into the dust.

His fall revealed his killer: Brynhild. A million thoughts flashed through Astrid's mind, the main one being how sorry she was that she had judged the other woman so harshly. Before she could even think to thank her, Brynhild nodded firmly at the blonde and leapt back into the fray.

Filled with the smallest flicker of hope, Astrid urged Storm on towards Hiccup with a light touch of her heels. She was close enough to see his eyes flitting around wildly, probably searching for her. As much as she wanted to tell him to turn, leaving her behind to possible doom, selfishness kept her mouth closed. Determined not to be distracted again, she focused back on the battle just in time to deflect a sword from a foot soldier that was aimed at Storm's stomach.

Hiccup finally spotted her. Twisting out of the way of a foot soldier who had tried to pull him off his horse, he began to make his way towards her, also occupied by those around him attempting to do him harm. Despite it all, they were slowly growing closer to one another. To freedom.

Finally, there was only one horseback soldier between them. Astrid didn't hesitate. She urged Storm forward, meeting Spitelout's lackey with her axe elevated and ready for blood. The soldier raised his sword, aiming for her hand in the hopes that he would land his mark and she would be forced to drop her weapon. Ready for the predictable move, Astrid pulled Storm out of the way and, while the soldier's sword was still hanging in empty air, dug her axe into his armpit and barged Storm into him so that he fell into the dirt. The fallen soldier's steed ran towards the forest with a squeal, stepping on his rider in the process. The man lay in the dirt, groaning through gritted teeth and holding his hand underneath his arm, trying and failing to staunch the flow of blood and forgetting about Hiccup and Astrid entirely in the face of his pain.

Hiccup, eyes wide as he looked down at the soldier, wrenched his gaze towards her. "You okay?"

Astrid, surprised and a little touched, nodded. She checked Storm before replying aloud. "Yeah. You?" Hiccup nodded distractedly, his eyes watching her back. "Good. Then let's get out of here."

Checking over her shoulder for pursuit and seeing none, Astrid turned Storm in the direction of Raven Forest. Hiccup did the same and they set off at as fast of a canter as they could manage. Storm stumbled and shook beneath her, the motion making Astrid's body shift and her heart ache. Nonetheless, she managed to push on. As the looming oaks grew closer and closer, she allowed the flicker of hope in her chest to grow. Soon, they would be clear of the soldiers and she would be able to use Gothi's medicine to heal Storm. Hiccup would be unharmed, she would alive - and they would all be safe.

"They're getting away!" somebody shrieked, their voice drowning out all other sounds of conflict and the small fire in her chest.

Astrid's twisted her head around and spotted the source of the voice: Endre, hanging out of the window of one of the houses and pointing towards her and Hiccup, redirecting the attention of the soldiers towards the fleeing prince and his companion.

Silently, she cursed herself for her naivety. It could never be that easy.

A handful of soldiers turned away from their fights, allowing their comrades to finish of their opponents. The number of villagers was not enough to stop them or even win the battle. Brynhild and Gothi were among the few remaining, but it was clear that they were losing.

Three of the soldiers drew bows while the remaining two began to run down the hill with swords outstretched and battle cries bursting from their lips. Astrid turned back, pressing her heels harder against Storm's sides. The mare's only response was to stumble, causing Astrid's heart to drop even further. She looked up to see the forest growing closer by the second. It was metres away at the most. If they could only reach it before the arrows began to fly-

The first projectile cut through the air and landed just to Storm's left, causing the mare to squeal in fear and pile on the speed. Although they were aiming for Hiccup, one of the arrows was bound to take Astrid or Storm down first. Then, with her out of the way, they would soon finish off the prince.

Forcing an apology through gritted teeth, Astrid yanked violently on Storm's reins, forcing the mare to dart to the left. She did so again, pulling on the right this time so that Storm crossed over to the left of the road. In doing so, she hoped to make it more difficult for the soldiers to land their mark.

"Don't let her get away!" Endre bellowed. "That bitch murdered my family! Don't let her get away!"

His words hit Astrid like blows, forcing the air out of her lungs in a gasp. Hands tightening around her reins, she turned back to look at the man who had ordered her death, knowing as she did so that Hiccup was doing the same.

It was him. There was no doubt about it.

Distraction proved to be her downfall. Storm had slowed down with her rider no longer urging her on, giving one of the soldiers the chance to aim. Astrid heard the arrow whistling through the air and pressed her heels into Storm's sides, but it was too late.

She watched with wide eyes, helpless as the arrow sailed towards her.

She was too slow to stop it from embedding into the back of her mare's leg.

She could do nothing as Storm, with a squeal of agony, crumpled to the ground.

Her eyes locked onto Hiccup as she fell and she swore she saw his lips move to form her name. Then her head hit the ground and everything went black.

* * *

 **A/N ~ Er... sorry?**

 **But can we just take a moment to acknowledge the fact that I turned 222 words of my original draft into an entire chapter... that takes a lot of professional bullshitting.**


	16. Chapter Sixteen - Goodbye

**Chapter Sixteen: Goodbye**

OoOoO

For the second time that night, he was helpless to do anything except call her name. She was on the ground in the blink of an eye, not even granted the time to raise her arms and break her fall. The back of her head collided with a large, flat stone, immediately knocking her unconscious, and her axe skittered across the grass, her limp hands no longer able to hold it. She landed just behind her fallen mare, whose position inexplicably shielded her from the soldiers.

Hiccup yanked Night to a halt, his chest squeezing as if a metal fist was trying to crush the life out of him. He expected arrows to begin raining down, but none came. It seemed the soldiers were just as shocked as he.

"Astrid!" he cried, the word escaping from his body in a wheeze. When he spoke again, loosening his feet from the stirrups, desperation made it stronger. He was on the ground in seconds, the landing sending a spike of pain across his shoulders that he barely even noticed as he ran over and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"She's down! Kill her!" Endre screeched from atop the balcony, stirring the soldiers out of their stupor.

And the arrows began to rain down once more.

Hiccup dropped to the ground instantly, instinct from the years of training sessions he had unwillingly partook in being the only thing that saved his life. He landed hard on his left shoulder – thankfully, not the injured one – and a wave of pain crashed over his mind. The scream that burst from his lips was drowned out by the whistle and thud of each of the arrows.

Hiccup raised his head the second the arrows stopped firing. His eyes immediately landed on Astrid, checking her for harm while his fingers scrabbled to find her pulse. After a moment of growing panic, he was able to find the one in her wrist. Relief, like the surge of warmth that came after stepping into a hot bath, flooded through him. Then, he saw where the arrows had landed.

Three new shafts produced from Storm's body. One in her stomach. The second in her neck. The third in her eye. The mare released a horrific, gurgling squeal, then went limp, just as Astrid began to stir.

"Storm? Oh!" Astrid's eyes locked onto her mare the second they opened and ran over the four arrows producing from various parts of her body. "Oh no, no, no, no." she slipped a bloody hand under the mare's limp head and tried to lift it. "Storm?"

"Astrid." Hiccup murmured, his head and back throbbing. In the distance, the soldiers holding bows drew their swords instead and began to race down the hill. He moved the hand that he had wrapped around her stomach as the arrows had rained down onto her shoulder and heaved himself into a crouch. "Astrid, please. We have to go. I'm sorry - she's gone."

Astrid tensed, then released a heavy breath. Almost as if she was afraid of waking her, she gave the mare's mane a final stroke and placed her limp head back down on the grass.

"Astrid, please, we have to go."

She yanked her legs out from underneath the fallen mare, whimpering in pain and pressing her fingers to the back of her head. They came away bloody. Hiccup ignored the ache in his chest that surfaced when he saw her injury and cupped her elbow with his hand, pulling her to her feet with his eyes on the approaching soldiers the entire time. They were gaining ground by the second.

As soon as she was on her feet, Astrid threw his arm away. Wobbling slightly, she turned her back on her mare and began to stumble in Night's direction, who was pawing the grass impatiently as he waited for his rider. Thankfully, none of the arrows had succeeded in marking him. With shaky, hurried footsteps, Astrid made her way over to her fallen axe and scooped managed to scoop it up with trembling arms. Hiccup, thinking fast, raced over to Storm and freed the bags still attached to her saddle.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, placing a hand on her matted main and feeling blood seep onto his filthy skin.

The soldiers were almost upon them. Hiccup, arms full, raced over to the waiting stallion just as Astrid managed to pull herself onto his back. Tying the bags on with fumbling fingers, he swung himself onto the saddle in front of her and turned Night in the direction of the forest. Astrid, with a final look back at her fallen horse, wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed her bloody head into the crook of his neck.

"Goodbye," he heard her mumble.

* * *

Even with the extra rider and baggage weighing him down, the soldiers on foot were no match for Night's speed. They entered the forest, leaving behind the accusations and destruction they had created, and lost them minutes later to the sharp bends and dark shadows created by the trees. Even so, Hiccup abandoned the forest's only path as soon as possible, allowing the three of them to be swallowed by the mass of twisting oaks. He kept his eyes open for signs of villagers or soldiers but saw nothing. He hoped most of them had managed to get to safety, especially Gothi and Brynhild.

Presently, Astrid's grip around Hiccup's waist began to slacken. Hiccup spotted a tightly knotted copse and turned Night towards it, hoping the thickly grouped trees would hide them from the view of anybody who happened to pass by.

As soon as they came to a stop, Astrid let go of him and slid from Night's back. Her knees buckled when she landed but she managed to right herself before Hiccup could move to help her. Once she was steady, she drew her axe and plunged it into a tree with a furious yell that made Hiccup flinch instinctually. He expected her to pull it out and repeat the action, but instead she walked over to him and Night and began to untie the saddlebags. Hiccup, watching her carefully in case she collapsed, dismounted and removed the saddle and bridle. As soon as he was free, the stallion collapsed to the ground and rested his head in the fallen leaves. Hiccup retrieved his waterskin and poured some of its contents into a bowl, which the horse lapped up gratefully. He could hear the river gurgling somewhere in the distance but finding it would have to wait until morning.

His body was throbbing with agony and he could feel blood trickling down his back, but Hiccup ignored the pain as he turned to Astrid and asked if he could look at her head.

For a moment, she was silent. "Your back," she muttered eventually, her voice terrifyingly weak. "You've bled through your bandages."

"And I think you have a concussion," Hiccup replied, injecting strength into his voice. "Let me look at your head."

When she didn't say or do anything, Hiccup retrieved the bag of medicine and opened his waterskin. He grabbed one of bottles of herbs from Gothi's bag, hoping it would have the same effect on her wound as it did on his, and gently reached out to part Astrid's hair. When she didn't do anything to stop him, he began to trickle water onto the cuts on the front and back of her head, washing away the filth that had collected there as well as he could. A mixture of blood and water stained her clothes, but it hardly showed up. They were both filthy. When he was done, he added the herb and bandaged it clumsily. It wasn't his finest work, but it would have to do.

He stood up unceremoniously when he was finished, intending to put the medicine back with the rest of the bags, when Astrid muttered: "Your back."

Hiccup nodded after a moment's hesitation and sat down slowly, blinking back tears as he removed his hooded jacket and hitched his shirt up to his armpits. Eight nights worth of grime and a layer of blood covered his entire torso; he could no longer see the point in changing it anymore. Astrid cut away the bandages with slow but surprisingly steady fingers and added fresh herbs before wrapping it up again, silent apart from her unsteady breathing. When she was finished, Hiccup redressed himself and moved his right arm around a bit, testing his limits. He couldn't raise it higher than his head before he had to stop for fear of crying out.

The night was still young. He turned to Astrid, who was sitting underneath her axe and staring at her shoes with a hand resting on her stomach. He guessed she was feeling nauseated. A million questions swarmed around his head like a hive of angry bees, but when he spoke, he just said: "You should sleep."

She tried to shake her head, but it made her wince. "No."

"If you sleep, your concussion will go away faster. I know that much."

His mind travelled back to his childhood, to when his father would arrive home in the courtyard after a dragon raid with a bloody head and shaking legs and immediately head to bed. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the familiar clench in his stomach every time he thought about his father.

"I can't."

Hiccup sighed sadly, understanding. "You have to try, at least." Her bag was lying slightly open nearby, her sleeping mat and what looked like the rope of a bola poking out slightly. He grabbed the blanket and held it out to her. "Just try. I'll keep watch and tell you if anything happens."

For a moment, she seemed like she wasn't going to take it. Then she did, albeit reluctantly, although she made no move to unravel it. Hiccup held out his waterskin to her, which she took with greater enthusiasm and gulped down half of before handing it back. Finally, she untied the blanket and spread it out over her legs.

"I'm sorry about Storm."

The silence was so long that he was almost sure she hadn't heard him.

"You shouldn't feel sorry for me. She was… just a horse. You've lost far more." She removed her jacket slowly and rested her head on it, her eyes sliding shut. "But I never should've signed that contract."

Hiccup didn't know what to say, or how to explain the wave of sadness that washed over him at her words. He sat down and lay against Night's stomach, his hand resting upon his sword and his eyes flitting back and forth between Astrid and the forest surrounding them until the sun rose. She fell asleep after approximately an hour, and if she was having nightmares, her face didn't show it.

He was so focused on watching for danger that he never noticed the large, cat-like green eyes watching him from a nearby tree, and never heard the rush of wings as the owner of those eyes departed at dawn.

OoOoO

"Does Spitelout know he got away?" the soldier asked, holding his sword up to the feeble sunrise to check if he had polished away all the blood that coated the blade.

In answer to his question, a scream of rage rose up from between the houses in the distance, forming the name _Haddock_ with such potent rage that the two soldiers shuddered on instinct.

"Apparently," the second soldier mused, forcing a smile onto his lips.

"How's Caiden?" the first asked, referring to their comrade who had been stabbed in the eye the past night. "Still screaming?"

"Dead," replied the second shortly, remembering the glint of a blonde braid and the scream she released before she had driven the arrow into his skull.

"A shame," the other said, although he didn't sound very sad about it. "If only he'd grabbed the Haddock boy instead – then he might've actually done something useful before he died."

The second soldier forced himself to be silent, although his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

"You know," the first said conversationally, "I expected prince Spitelout to be mad, him being the one who murdered Stoick the Vast and all, but-" he was cut off when another person's yell, much closer and possibly even more furious than the first, frightened a flock of Terrible Terrors into taking flight from the trees. The two soldiers watched impassively as the dragons were shot down by a few soldiers looking for target practice. "-I never expected _him_ to get so mad."

* * *

 **A/N ~ Back from the dead!**

 **So… it's been three months.**

 **But to be honest, writing this isn't very fun anymore. I'm actually really enjoying reading and writing original stuff at the moment, and I'm saving my HTTYD hype for when the third film comes out in cinemas. (Which is less than a year away!) But I'll try to keep on writing this, because our favourite Night Fury should be making an appearance sometime soon…**

 **On that note, thank you for 10K reads and 40 favourites! I definitely wouldn't have continued this without you guys. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! I haven't written anything for this in a while, as you know, so if anything seems weird or there are any inconsistencies then I would love to know. :)**


End file.
